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’’COME, MAGPIE! .COME, SEE WHAT I HAVE 
BROUGHT YOU !” — Page 62. 



Eqsechen and the 




BOSTON 


LOTHROP. LEE & SHEPARD CO. 



, Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Oo. 




APR 19 1917 

OciA-l CO.'! 7 3 

1- M} ( , 


V. 






HERE is still standing in Austria a cer- 



tain old castle which bears the name of 
an ancient and noble family ; and if one were 
to go thither and search in some of its for- 
gotten corners he might perhaps find the long- 
empty cage in which for two hundred years a 
magpie was always kept imprisoned, just as 
the one in the following pages, and for a like 
reason. So “ the wicked magpie ” really ex- 
isted ; and as for the rest of this little tale, — 
ah, well, very likely it all happened, too, just 
as I have set it down. 


6 


Evaleen Stein. 



I. 

Rosechen Goes to Castle Hohenberg 

PAGE 

11 

II. 

The Story of the Wicked Magpie . 

23 

III. 

Rosechen and Her Geese . 

34 

IV. 

Cherry-Picking 

48 

y. 

The Magpie and His Only Friend . 

57 

VI. 

The Harvest Fails .... 

69 

VII. 

Peasant Johann Goes to See Baron 
Rudolph 

79 


7 


CONTENTS 


VIII. Winter in the Valley . 

IX. Henry, the Page, Makes Trouble . 

X. Baron Rudolph Goes Riding 

XI. How the Fight With the Hawk Led 
Rosechen to the Baron . 

XII. Baron Rudolph Begins to Think 

XIII. Rosechen Asks Some Questions . 

XIV. Baron Rudolph’s Resolve . 

XV. The Cage Door Is Opened at Last . 


PAGE 

91 

105 

120 

130 

143 

154 

167 

180 


8 








I 

ROSECHEN GOES TO CASTLE 
HOHENBERG 


TTAR away, across the sea, in that part of 
the Austrian land known as the Tyrol, 
there rises a spur of the great chain of moun- 
tains called the Alps. These Tyrolese Alps 
are very beautiful, with wonderful snowy 
peaks from which icy torrents go rushing and 
11 


ROSECHEN AND 

tumbling down to water the deep green val- 
leys below. 

Midway up the slope of one of the loftiest 
of the peaks there juts a steep, craggy rock ; 
and perched on this, a very long time ago, 
there stood an ancient castle. On three sides 
its gray walls rose sheer and tall from the very 
edge of the crags ; but on the fourth side a 
winding pathway led up the mountain to the 
drawbridge that spanned a deep moat pro- 
tecting the castle gate. Beyond the gate was 
a paved courtyard surrounded by weather- 
beaten towers ; and in one of the grayest 
of these, fixed in the stones at about the 
height of a man’s head from the ground, was 
a bracket wrought of iron. It was shaped 
like a dragon whose upcurled tail formed a 
hook from the tip of which dangled a small 
cage of the same dark metal. 

12 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

Within this cage one spring morning, ever 
so long ago, an old magpie sat peering mourn- 
fully out between the rusty iron bars. His 
eyes, once so bright and full of life, were dim 
and half closed, and his once beautiful feathers 
had quite lost their luster. The white of his 
breast was dingy, the glossy black of his 
wings had grown rusty, like the bars of his 
cage, and the rich rainbow hues of blue and 
green and purple, of which he had once been 
so proud, no longer shone from his bedraggled 
body. As he sat huddled close to the end of 
his perch he scarcely noticed that it was the 
one hour of the long day in which the spring 
sunlight strayed into the corner of the damp 
old tower where hung his cage. Nor did he 
lift his head as with a creaking of great bolts 
the porter opened the castle gate so that a 
woman and a little girl might enter. 

13 


ROSECHEN AND 


They were peasant folk from the green 
valley below ; and the woman carried, swung 
from a wooden bar across her shoulders, two 
copper cans filled with milk ; while the little 
girl tugged with both hands a large osier 
basket covered with cabbage leaves from be- 
neath which peeped the fresh green of lettuce 
and young vegetables. They both wore short, 
full skirts of dark cloth with black bodices 
and wide white sleeves, and each had an 
apron with a border embroidered in bright 
colors. On the woman’s head was a white 
cap, but the little girl’s flaxen braids hung 
from beneath a broad-brimmed hat of home- 
plaited straw. 

The gate shut behind them with a clang 
as they stepped into the courtyard ; and the 
little girl, who had never before come thither, 
looked about her with bright eager eyes. 

14 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

The old magpie saw her dimly, and only 
half roused himself as presently she cried, 
“ Oh, Mother, see ! There is a cage like my 
starling’s, only not so pretty ! Is the wicked 
magpie in it?” And putting her basket 
down on the paving stones, she stood on tip- 
toe trying to see into the cage hanging above 
her head. 

“ Yes, Rosechen,” answered the woman, 
“ that is the wicked magpie I have told you 
about.” 

The poor old magpie huddled back again 
in the corner of his cage and hid his head 
under his wing. “ The wicked magpie I ” 
How often he had heard those three words ! 
Indeed, he could have said them very well 
himself had he chosen to ; — but he hated, 
hated, hated them ! He did not know what 
they meant, but he knew that for years and 
15 


ROSECHEN AND 


years people had said them, and then, looking 
at him scornfully and shrugging their shoul- 
ders, they would turn away, no longer caring 
to notice him. 

But the little girl was not looking at him 
scornfully, but with an intent curiosity. In 
a moment she ran up the lower steps of a 
stone stair leading to a door in the tower ; 
from these she could look into the cage, and 
as she looked her blue eyes filled with com- 
passion. And even the old magpie started 
and half opened his eyes as she exclaimed in 
a pitying voice, “ But, Mother, he does not 
look wicked, nor cross, as I thought he 
would ! He just looks so old and miserable ! 
And, Mother, I don't believe the cup of water 
in his cage has been freshened for days, and 
he has scarcely anything to eat ! ” 

Here Rosechen sprang down the steps and 

16 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


running to her basket seized a green lettuce 
leaf and hurrying back thrust it between the 
bars of the cage, which she could reach quite 
easily from the upper steps of the stairway. 

But the magpie drew back with a tremu- 
lous fluttering of his bedraggled wings, and, 
opening wide his round eyes, looked at the 
little girl half in fear and half utter surprise. 

“ Come, magpie ! ” said Rosechen in a 
sweet coaxing voice, as she smiled kindly at 
him. “ Come, taste this nice fresh lettuce ! ” 
But still the old magpie stared, quite un- 
able to understand. In all his life no one 
had ever spoken kindly to him. He had 
supposed all human beings hated magpies as 
much as he hated people. But here stood a 
strange little girl smiling at him and coaxing 
him with a leaf of lettuce ! 

He turned his head from side to side try- 

17 


ROSEGHEN AND 


ing to make out this puzzle ; but in another 
moment Rosechen’s mother, who had been 
gossipping with one of the serving women of 
the castle and so had not noticed what the 
little girl was doing, turned and saw her. 

“ Rosechen ! Rosechen ! ” she cried in dis- 
may, “ what are you doing ? Do you not 
know 'tis bad luck to talk to the wicked 
magpie? Come quickly, child, and fetch 
along your basket, or the castle cooks will 
grow impatient for their milk and vege- 
tables ! ” 

Rosechen came down the stair as her 
mother bade her, but could not resist pausing 
a moment at its foot to look up at the cage 
and say softly, “ Good-bye, magpie! I hope 
you will like the lettuce ! ” 

And the magpie, who had drawn back to 
the middle of his cage, again moved to the 
18 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


end of his perch, and, pressing his body as 
close as possible to the rusty bars, cocked his 
head to one side and peered wonderingly 
down at his new-found friend. 

As Rosechen took up her basket and 
followed her mother her blue eyes were still 
full of pity and her thoughts in the little 
iron cage ; but as they crossed the courtyard 
there were so many interesting things to be 
seen that again she began to look eagerly 
about her. Opposite the gateway rose a tall 
tower in which a stately doorway led to the 
main hall of the castle. Over the door was a 
large stone shield on which was carved the 
coat of arms of the Baron Rudolph of Hohen- 
berg, who was lord of the castle as his fore- 
fathers had been for hundreds of years before. 
But it was not to this doorway that Rosechen 
and her mother made their way, but to a 
19 


ROSECHEN AND 

smaller one in a tower near by where was the 
great kitchen. 

“ Good-day, Frau Hedwig ! ” said a stout 
red-faced man wearing a cook’s apron ; “ I 
hope you have brought plenty of milk,” he 
added anxiously, “ for Baron Rudolph has or- 
dered a whey pudding for his dinner and he 
will be angry if it is not ready ! ” Then as 
his glance fell on Rosechen, “ Hey, child ! ” 
he said, “have you brought something, too? ” 
As they stepped within the large room 
Rosechen timidly set down her basket on 
the stone flagging of the floor, while one of 
the maids took the milk cans her mother 
had carried and emptied them into some 
earthen jugs in a near-by corner. At one 
side of the room was a huge fireplace where 
on a long spit meat was roasting, while in 
a number of brass and copper kettles and 
20 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


saucepans the castle dinner was being made 
ready over glowing coals. 

A boy scullion, after a pleasant greeting to 
Rosechen, emptied her basket, and the little 
girl interested herself in watching all going 
on in the kitchen, while her mother talked a 
bit with some of her friends there ; for Frau 
Hedwig came often and knew most of the 
humbler folk about the castle. By and by, 
when she had learned all the news of Hohen- 
berg in exchange for that of the green valley 
below, she called Rosechen to her and they 
started across the courtyard toward the gate. 

Though Rosechen had forgotten the mag- 
pie for a while, as they waited for the porter 
to open the gate again she looked up at the 
old tower and the little iron cage where the 
magpie sat with his wings folded and his 

head drooped on his dingy breast. 

21 


ROSE CHEN 


Rosechen gave a little perplexed sigh, and, 
when they had passed over the drawbridge and 
began to descend the steep path leading down 
the mountain, “ Mother,” she said to Frau Hed- 
wig as she trudged along beside her, “ please 
tell me again about the wicked magpie.” 





II 

THE STORY OF THE 
WICKED MAGPIE 


TTRAU HEDWIG nodded her head to the 
little girl’s request and repeated the 
story which had been handed down for gen- 
erations among both the peasant folk and 
nobles of the region round the castle. 

“ You know,” she began, “ it was more 
23 


ROSECHEN AND 


than two hundred years ago that Baron 
Friedrich of Hohenberg, one of the fore- 
fathers of our Baron Rudolph, gave a won- 
derful necklace of pearls to the Lady Irma, 
his wife ; for he dearly loved her. Each 
pearl had been chosen with the greatest care, 
and the whole necklace gleamed and glis- 
tened as white as milk yet with such lovely 
colors all underneath that the Lady Irma 
said it was as if a string of snowflakes had 
been dipped in the end of a rainbow. It was 
a birthday gift, and Lady Irma was more 
pleased with it than with anything else she 
had ever had.” 

“ Yes,” said Rosechen, “ and I remember 
you said they had a great birthday feast 
on the day Baron Friedrich gave her the 
necklace.” 

" And when the feasting was over,” con- 
24 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


tinued her mother, “ and Lady Irma went up 
the winding stair to the room where she 
slept ” 

“The winding stair ?” repeated Rosechen 
inquiringly, for the little girl had never seen 
one. 

“ Yes, child,” said Frau Hedwig, with a 
wise smile, “ that is the kind one sees in 
castles ; they wind around inside the great 
towers and are quite different from the ladder 
we have to climb to reach our loft.” 

“ Oh!” murmured Rosechen, thinking how 
grand it must be to live in a castle. 

“ Well,” went on Frau Hedwig, “ as I was 
saying, when Lady Irma went up the wind- 
ing stair to her chamber, the tire-woman who 
waited upon her unfastened the necklace and 
laid it on an oaken table, meaning by and by 
to shut it up in the beautiful carved box 
25 


ROSECHEN AND 

where Lady Irma kept the chains and jewels 
she was not wearing. But the tire-woman 
forgot to put the necklace away, so it stayed 
on the table all night. 

“ The next day when Lady Irma wanted 
to wear the pearls again, they were nowhere 
to be found. For days they searched all over 
the castle, up-stairs and down, but there was 
no trace of the missing necklace. 

“ Then they tried to remember who had 
been in the room beside the tire-woman ; for 
she was an old and trusted servant and Lady 
Irma felt sure she could not possibly have 
taken it. At last some one reminded them 
that a young peasant named Jan, who had 
lately come to serve in the castle, had carried 
up an armful of fagots to kindle a fire in 
Lady Irma’s chamber on the day the pearls 
were lost. 


26 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


“ Poor Jan declared he had never even seen 
the necklace, but Baron Friedrich, who was 
hot-tempered like our Baron Rudolph ” (here 
Frau Hedwig sighed), “and very angry be- 
cause Lady Irma had been robbed of the gift 
she cared so much for, ordered Jan to be 
taken and put in prison in one of the 
castle dungeons.” 

“ And did you say he was in the dungeon a 
whole year, Mother, before he died ? ” asked 
Rosechen in an awed voice. 

“ It was three years, my child,” answered 
her mother. “ He was a fine strong young 
man, but in the terrible underground dungeon 
he wasted away and died miserably ; though 
with his last breath he still declared he was 
innocent.” 

“ And how long was it before they found 
the magpie's nest ? ” again asked the little girl. 
27 


ROSECHEN AND 


“ I believe/’ said Frau Hedwig, “ it was a 
twelvemonth after Jan died that one day a 
workman climbed to the top of one of the cas- 
tle towers to place some new tiles on the roof, 
and there, tucked away behind the parapet, 
he found the nest of a magpie and noticed that 
in it was something white and glistening.” 

“ It was the pearl necklace ! ” said Rosechen, 
who knew the story fairly well. “ And, 
Mother, is it true that magpies always like 
bright, shining things?” 

“ So folks say,” answered Frau Hedwig. “ I 
remember once, when I was a little girl, my 
father cut down a forest tree in which was a 
magpie’s nest, and in it were some bits of a 
broken porringer and some white pebbles. 
So when Lady Irma’s necklace lay on the 
oaken table and the morning sunlight streamed 
through an open window near by and made 
28 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


all the pearls glisten, of course the first pass- 
ing magpie saw it and wanted it. And it was 
no doubt very easy for him to dart in the win- 
dow and carry it off in his strong beak. At 
any rate the nest on the castle roof plainly 
proved that a magpie had been the real robber 
and not poor Jan who had suffered death in 
the dungeon. ” 

“ I should think Baron Friedrich and Lady 
Irma would have felt dreadfully sorry when 
they found it out ! ” said Rosechen, her blue 
eyes filling with tears of quick sympathy as 
she thought of the misery of the poor young 
peasant who had died for an act of which he 
was innocent. 

“ Indeed they felt sorry enough ! ” replied 
her mother. “ Baron Friedrich was filled with 
remorse because he had unjustly accused Jan, 
and he was very, very angry with the magpie 
29 


ROSECHEN AND 


and determined that it should be punished. 
But they could not find the real thief, for the 
nest had long been empty save for the pearl 
necklace. 

“ Nevertheless Baron Friedrich commanded 
that an iron cage be made, and when it was 
finished he had one of his huntsmen snare a 
magpie which he ordered to be kept prisoner 
in the cage so long as it lived. ” 

“ But, Mother,” interrupted Rosechen, “ you 
just said that they could not find the magpie 
that had really been the robber ! ” And the 
perplexed look came again into her face. 

“ To be sure, child ! ” answered her mother. 
“ Of course among the many magpies flying 
about our forests and valleys no one could pos- 
sibly pick out the real thief. Moreover, as the 
nest on the castle roof was empty, the magpie 
who stole the pearls must either have died or 
30 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

flown away. But Baron Friedrich wanted to 
keep one always prisoner in the iron cage so 
that it might remind him and others that one 
of its race had been a robber and had caused 
the death of an innocent man. 

“ He ordered, too, that it be given barely 
enough food and water to keep it alive, and 
that when it died another magpie must be 
found to take its place, so that always at the 
Castle of Hohenberg one of these birds should 
be kept prisoner.” 

“ And has there always been a magpie in 
the cage, Mother?” asked Rosechen. 

“ Yes,” said her mother, “ for two hundred 
years the children and great-great-grandchil- 
dren of Baron Friedrich and Lady Irma, as 
one by one they have grown up to be lords 
of the castle, have always kept a magpie in 
the little iron cage. People call it ‘ the 
31 


ROSECHEN AND 


wicked magpie/ and it is ill luck, child, to 
speak to it ! ” finished Frau Hedwig earnestly. 

“ But, Mother,” said Rosechen, still greatly 
perplexed, “ I do not see why people call him 
wicked ! The poor magpie up there in the 
cage never did any harm ! ” 

“ Well,” replied her mother, “ for these two 
hundred years the magpie in the cage has 
always been called wicked. And it is not for 
us poor peasants to say that the great folks at 
the castle are wrong. They are a great deal 
wiser than we are.” 

And Frau Hedwig nodded her head with a 
satisfied air. For most of the peasant people 
were simple souls who thought that things 
which had been done for a very long time 
must be right, especially if done by the noble 
folk. 

But Rosechen could not understand why 

32 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

the poor magpie should suffer for something 
another magpie had done. And she thought 
and thought about it, trying to straighten 
it out in her mind. For although she had 
heard the story before, she was much more 
interested in it now that she had really seen 
the magpie and how forlorn he looked. To 
be sure, she had a little starling in a cage at 
home; but the cage was large and made of 
pretty wicker and the starling hung in the 
sunshine and had plenty of fresh water and 
food, and Rosechen had petted it so much 
that it would often let her carry it about on 
her finger. But the magpie, which was a 
much larger bird, could scarcely move about 
in his iron prison which hung all day long 
in the shadow of the damp old tower ; and 
Rosechen sighed as she remembered how 
neglected and miserable he looked. 

33 



Ill 

ROSECHEN AND HER GEESE 


T)UT while Rosechen and her mother had 
been talking, they had kept on trudg- 
ing down the steep mountain path. A torrent 
of clear icy water splashed and tumbled along 
beside them, now and then plunging over the 
edge of some craggy rock and making a 
34 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


pretty little waterfall flecked with white foam 
and filled with sparkling light and tinkling 
music. 

By and by, when it reached the valley, it 
spread out into a silvery stream flowing be- 
tween mossy boulders and dripping alder 
bushes. Here and there its waters slipped 
into quiet shadowy pools where speckled 
fishes moved lazily to and fro ; and then 
laughing in the sunlight it sped away and 
entered a deep forest which closed in the 
valley. 

At the foot of the mountain which Frau 
Hedwig and Rosechen were descending there 
was a little rustic bridge, and, beyond this, a 
grassy meadow-land at the far edge of which 
stood a house surrounded by apple and cherry 
trees from which the last blossoms were fall- 
ing in showers of white and rosy petals. 

35 


ROSECHEN AND 


At the sight of this the little girl and her 
mother quickened their steps, and as they 
drew near the open doorway a burst of song 
greeted them from Rosechen’s starling, whose 
pretty wicker cage was fastened to the wall 
without. 

Frau Hedwig set her milk cans down on a 
bench under a cherry tree, while Rosechen 
hung her basket on a peg near the door of 
the house. This was much like those of the 
other peasants scattered through the valley. 
It was built of wood with the dark beams 
showing on the outer walls, and its wide over- 
hanging roof was thatched with yellow straw. 
The same roof covered also a stable which 
joined the house and from which came a 
great cackling of geese. 

“ Hush ! ” cried Rosechen as she peeped in. 
“ Do not be so noisy ! I will soon come and 
36 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

take you out.” For Rosechen was the little 
goose-girl who attended them every day. 

But the geese only wagged their heads im- 
patiently as they waddled round and round 
on the earthen floor ; for they had been 
penned up while Rosechen had gone with 
her mother to the castle, and were anxious to 
get out and nibble the fresh green grass. 
The cow and few sheep which belonged to the 
family had already left their stalls and were 
browsing in the meadow, watched over by 
Rosechen’s father as he worked in the near-by 
garden. 

“ I will just get my knitting ! ” called Rose- 
chen to the geese again noisily cackling, as 
she turned from the stable and followed Frau 
Hedwig into the house. 

The room they entered, which was fairly 
large with a low ceiling crossed by heavy 
37 


ROSECHEN AND 

brown rafters, was the main living-room of 
the family. In one corner was a curious 
stove made of earthen tiles ; over it projected 
a wooden hood to carry off the smoke, and 
under this hung several copper pots and 
kettles. An open fire of peat smouldered in 
the stove, for it was here that Frau Hedwig 
did her cooking ; and as the fire was hard to 
kindle (for no one had matches then) it was 
seldom allowed to go out. 

Near a broad window at one side of the 
room stood a spinning-wheel, and beyond 
that was a dresser with a few earthenware 
dishes. Close by this two benches were fast- 
ened to the floor and in front of them was a 
heavy table, with carved ends, on which stood 
a jug of milk and some pewter plates. There 
was also a carved oaken chest for clothing ; 
for through the long winter, when the snow 
38 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


lay in great drifts over the valley, Rosechen’s 
father with his few simple tools strove to 
make beautiful the things about their home. 
And so did Frau Hedwig, whose industrious 
fingers had fashioned many a lovely bit of 
embroidery on the linen cloth she spun and 
wove with her own hands from flax she had 
herself planted and tended. 

For no matter how poor the peasant folk 
of Tyrol may be, they somehow always find 
time to make something beautiful about their 
homes. They will carve their tables and 
chairs, and put a little bright embroidery 
here and there on the house linen, they will 
make pottery mugs and dishes for them- 
selves and paint them in quaint patterns, 
and will thus contrive to give an artistic 
touch to all sorts of things about their house- 
holds. 


39 


ROSE CHEN AND 


Indeed, their patient fingers are never idle 
a moment, and Rosechen’s father and mother 
were among the most industrious of the peas- 
ants in that valley. So although they all 
had to toil very hard for a bare living, never- 
theless their home showed the touch of the 
loving labor that makes beautiful even the 
humblest things. 

The little girl herself was learning much 
of her mother’s handicraft, and her little 
fingers had helped to work the red and blue 
patterns in cross-stitch which bordered the 
curtains of the great bed which stood in one 
corner of the room. Near to this was a little 
wooden cradle with gayly painted rockers, 
and in it a baby was sleeping so soundly that 
it did not even waken when Rosechen and 
her mother came into the room. But as 
Frau Hedwig hastened to bend over the 
40 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


cradle, the baby opened its eyes, blue like 
Rosechen’s, and smiled. 

“ I do not believe Kaspar has wakened up 
once while we were gone ! ” said Frau Hed- 
wig as she lifted him from the cradle and set 
him on the floor to play with a little wooden 
sheep which his father had carved for him. 

Kaspar had on a little shirt of coarse 
homespun, his only bit of finery being his 
cap which Frau Hedwig had carefully em- 
broidered with tiny sprigs of pinks. For 
peasant mothers of Tyrol strive always to 
have a pretty cap for the baby, even if he 
has but little else. Kaspar tugged at the 
strings of this cap with one hand and 
laughed and crowed as with the other he 
pounded the floor with the wooden sheep. 

Rosechen stopped a moment to pet her 
little brother, and then going to the carved 
41 


ROSECHEN AND 

chest she took out a partly knitted stocking 
of coarse blue yarn which her mother had 
spun ; and with this in her hands (which 
she had been taught must never be idle) she 
went out of the room and into the stable. 
Here she opened the pen in which the geese 
were still impatiently cackling, and they 
scrambled out as fast as their clumsy web 
feet would allow, hurrying to reach the 
young grass of the meadow and the edge of 
the little stream beyond. 

As Rosechen followed her noisy flock, her 
father, Peasant Johann, who was working in 
the garden, saw her, and “ Rosechen ! ” he 
called. “ Be careful, child, and do not let 
your geese swim across the brook, for Baron 
Rudolph has forbidden us to use any more 
of the grass on the farther bank ! And we 
are allowed to use the pasture on this side 
42 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

only so far as yonder boulder ! ” And Peas- 
ant Johann pointed to a large rounded rock 
at the edge of the brook. 

“ Yes, Father/' answered Rosechen ; and 
slowly making her way toward the brook 
she sat down on the boulder of which her 
father had spoken. 

Here, while her fingers industriously 
knitted the blue yarn, her thoughts were 
busy elsewhere ; for Rosechen, as she tended 
her geese, spent many hours by herself and 
so had time to think about a great many 
things. Beyond the brook, high up the 
mountainside she could see the jutting crag 
and the gray walls of the Castle of Hohen- 
berg. And then she wondered why Baron 
Rudolph was so hard on the peasant people 
of the valley ; for he was lord of the region 
round about and had the power to do pretty 
43 


ROSE CHEN AND 

much as he pleased to the poor peasant folk 
who lived on his land and were obliged to 
obey his commands. 

“ Why,” said Rosechen to herself, as she 
gazed across the brook, “why does Baron 
Rudolph care whether our geese or our cow 
or sheep eat some of the grass over there ! 
He has no use for it, and we have to take 
milk from our cow up to the castle, and so do 
other people from the valley. And nobody 
can fish in the brook only on one day in the 
week, and there are ever so many fish in it ! ” 

Here Rosechen peered down into the clear 
water of a pool beyond the boulder and tried 
to count the speckled fishes darting to and fro. 

“ No,” she decided, “ Baron Rudolph and 
the people at the castle cannot possibly eat all 
the fish in this brook, and there are so many 
of us peasant folks who would like some ! ” 
44 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


“ And / 7 she went on to herself, “ there are 
the hares in the forest. No one dares to 
shoot any. And Father says that once one of 
the peasant men up the valley caught only 
one in a trap, and Baron Rudolph had him 
put in prison in the castle for a long time ! 
Oh, I wonder if it was in that terrible dungeon 
where Peasant Jan died?” And her thoughts 
flew to the pearl necklace stolen from Lady 
Irma, and to the poor old magpie in the iron 
cage suffering punishment for something he 
had not done. 

Rosechen sighed with a troubled air. It 
was all very hard for a little girl to under- 
stand. But she did wish that Baron Ru- 
dolph would not be so particular about not 
letting the people in the valley have things 
that they so much needed ! 

Just here Rosechen glanced around at her 

45 


ROSECHEN AND 


geese which she had quite forgotten while she 
was thinking about the baron ; and jumping 
up in dismay she laid her knitting on the 
boulder and hastily pulling off her little 
wooden shoes and stockings, she waded out 
into the clear water of the brook. For three 
of the geese which had been swimming in the 
pool near her had crossed over and landed on 
the farther bank and were waddling about in 
the forbidden grass. 

“ There ! ” said Rosechen as reaching the 
farther edge of the brook she broke a bough 
from an overhanging alder bush. “ There ! 
Go back again where you belong ! ” And 
she marshalled the unwilling geese into line 
and guided them back to the other side. 

As they scattered the shining drops of water 
from their glossy feathers, Rosechen shook her 
rosy finger at them and said, “ I am sure I 
46 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


don’t know why you have to stay in just one 
little bit of grass and water, but Baron Ru- 
dolph says you must, so you will have to 
mind I ” she ended impressively; for the little 
goose-girl had been so much with them that 
she had gotten in the habit of talking to her 
geese quite as if they were people. And they 
all cackled and flapped their wings just as if 
they understood ; — and perhaps they did ; for 
geese are not nearly so silly as most people 
think them. 



47 



IV 

CHERRY — PICKING 


''JpHE cherries on Peasant Johann’s trees 
had ripened to a glossy red and shone 
and twinkled through the green leaves like 
little sparks of fire. The apples were be- 
ginning to mellow, and the row of moun- 
tain pinks which Rosechen had planted 
48 



THE WICKED MAGPIE 

near their door were full of fragrant flow- 
ers. 

But through the meadows in front of the 
house the grass was nibbled so close that 
there were no wild blossoms as there had 
been in years gone by. For pasture-land in 
the valley was scarce and the poor peasant 
folk had hard work at best to find enough 
for their cows and sheep and flocks of geese ; 
and Baron Rudolph was all the while allow- 
ing them the use of less and less of the land, 
although he exacted from them for the rent 
of their tiny farms just as much tax as ever, 
and always demanded the best of all the 
things they raised on their scanty ground 
and for which they were obliged to toil so 
hard. 

In the days of Baron Rudolph’s father, and 
indeed in the younger days of Baron Ru- 
49 


ROSEGHEN AND 

dolph himself, they had always gathered their 
cows and sheep together in the summer when 
the grass had been cropped from the mead- 
ows of the valley, and had sent them up to 
some of the high mountain pastures. There, 
under the care of one of the peasant folk, 
they stayed until the meadow grass might 
have time to grow again. 

But Baron Rudolph, who was becoming 
harder and more selfish all the while, had 
forbidden this for two years now and the 
flocks and herds of the valley had suffered 
much. There was good pasture on the other 
side of the mountain brook, but the baron, 
who was fond of hunting, had declared that 
it must be kept as a place for the hares which 
he liked to chase; just as he wanted the 
higher mountains kept for the fleet-footed 
chamois which also he delighted to hunt. 

50 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


And no matter how much the peasants 
suffered, they dared not complain ; for Baron 
Rudolph was rich and powerful, and the 
dungeons of Castle Hohenberg had known 
many a poor prisoner. 

Thinking of these things, Frau Hedwig 
sighed as she looked at the ripe cherries and 
the garden and the small field where rye and 
wheat were beginning to turn yellow ; for she 
knew how little they would be allowed to 
keep. Nevertheless, she patiently prepared 
the potato soup which would be their only 
dinner, and, placing the iron pot over the 
fire, she carried little Kaspar out and set him 
under one of the cherry trees ; then, “ Rose- 
chen ! ” she called to the little girl who was 
tending her geese by the brook-side, “ Rose- 
chen ! Father will watch the geese ; he must 
mend the bridge which has a broken rail ; so 
51 


ROSECHEN AND 


come and help me gather some cherries to 
take to the castle.” 

“ Yes,” said Peasant Johann, as he came to 
the bridge with his hammer and tools, “ go, 
child, and do as your mother bids, and I will 
see to the geese.” 

So Rosechen ran across the meadow and 
helping her mother fetch a rustic ladder from 
the stable they placed it against one of the 
trees ; Rosechen soon climbed into this and 
with nimble fingers began gathering the 
scarlet fruit in an osier basket which her 
mother handed to her. 

She worked busily, and presently, “ Here, 
Kaspar ! ” she cried, tossing down a shining 
cluster to the baby watching them with 
round blue eyes. Kaspar put up his chubby 
hands, and though he could not catch the 
cluster he laughed with delight as he scram- 
52 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

bled toward it and seized it with his fat little 
fingers. He dangled it a moment in the 
sunlight thinking it the prettiest plaything 
he had ever had, and then, suddenly squeez- 
ing it tightly in his chubby fist, was about 
to thrust it into his mouth when Frau 
Hedwig spied him and quickly stopped him. 
“ There ! ” she said. “ Your clean shirt is all 
stained with cherry juice ! ” 

But Kaspar only cried lustily, and would 
not be comforted till Frau Hedwig plucked a 
pink for him to smell and carried him off to 
the house where she had much work to do. 

By and by Rosechen’s basket was filled, and, 
coming down from the tree, “ Mother ! ” she 
called, “ must I take all these to the castle ? ” 
“ Yes, child/' answered Frau Hedwig, com- 
ing to the door where Kaspar sat crooning to 
himself and blinking at the starling singing 
53 


ROSECHEN AND 


in the sunlight. “ Yes, you must take them 
all, and you had best start right away.” 

Rosechen took the heavy basket and 
trudged off across the meadow, where the 
cow and sheep were nibbling the few tufts of 
grass they could still find to eat, and then 
passing over the bridge she started up the 
steep path toward the crag of Hohenberg. 

Up, up, wound the path, through dense 
thickets of hazel and fir-trees and tall pines 
with silvery green crowns and purple shadows 
beneath them. And always, close by, was 
the plashing and gurgling of the icy torrent 
as it rushed down the slopes to make the 
pretty brook below. 

Rosechen’s basket was heavy, and many 
times, quite out of breath, she was obliged to 
sit down and rest on some mossy rock. But 
though the mountain path was hard to climb, 
54 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


everything was so beautiful that as she looked 
around with dreamy eyes she did not mind 
that the way was steep. The summer wind 
blew softly through the pines and filled the 
air with an aromatic fragrance. Here and 
there bluebells and forget-me-nots fringed the 
edges of the sparkling torrent, and tall ferns 
bordered its rocky pools with green. Far 
down in the valley a cuckoo was singing, the 
sweet notes of his name echoing faintly up 
the mountainside. 

It was all so lovely that Rosechen’s heart 
beat for joy, for she loved beautiful things. 
But before long she drew near the crag of 
Hohenberg, and as the gray walls of the 
castle loomed above her they seemed to shut 
out all the light and beauty around them. 

Rosechen crossed the drawbridge with lag- 
ging steps ; and when the porter opened the 
55 


ROSECHEN 


great gate and she stood within the court- 
yard, she gave a little shiver. 

The first time that Rosechen had come to 
the castle everything was so new to her and 
she had been so interested in looking around 
that she had not thought it so gloomy. But 
each time since, when she had carried things 
to Hohenberg, she had thought it a very sad 
and dismal place; and it seemed more gloomy 
than ever as she crossed the flagstones of the 
courtyard to the door of the kitchen tower. 



56 




V 

THE MAGPIE AND HIS 
ONLY FRIEND 


A S she entered the castle kitchen, “ Good- 
morning, Rosechen ! ” “ Good-morn- 

ing ! ” came from the cooks and serving-folk 
at work there. 

“ I am sure,” said one maid to another as 
she bent over a meat pasty she was making, 
57 


ROSE CHEN AND 


“ it is good to see something bright in this 
cheerless place 1 ” and she nodded toward the 
little girl, whose eyes were shining and her 
cheeks very pink from her hard climb. 

“ Yes/' said the other maid, in a low voice, 
“ Baron Rudolph grows every day harder to 
please I I wish I dared to go home I ” And 
the maid sighed ; for she was a peasant girl 
from the valley and very unhappy where she 
was, but she did not dare to leave the castle 
for fear the baron would punish her or her 
family. 

Rosechen, though she had not heard the 
talk of the two maids, was talking herself 
with Wilhelm, the boy scullion who had 
come as usual to empty her basket and with 
whom she had become very good friends. 

“ Why is everybody so quiet here ? ” asked 
the little girl, “and why is it so gloomy? 
58 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


Is it because Baron Rudolph is cross to every 
one here, too ? Father says he is harder and 
harder on us peasant folk all the time, and 
he does not see how we can live if he takes 
more things away from us ! ” 

“ Hush, Rosechen I ” said Wilhelm, who 
was a few years older than the little girl and 
had been at the castle long enough to know 
that the serving-people must not always 
speak their thoughts out loud unless they 
wished to risk a beating. “ You had better 
be careful,” he added ; “ there goes Baron 
Rudolph now ! ” 

Rosechen turned and looked with eager 
curiosity at the baron, whom she had not 
happened to see when she had come to the 
castle before. He was now walking slowly 
across the courtyard on his way from one 
part of the castle to another. His hands were 
59 


ROSECHEN AND 


clasped behind his back and though he was a 
tall man he did not seem so, as his shoulders 
were stooped and bent. His hair and beard 
were gray and his face stern and hard, and as 
Rosechen looked at him she wondered if he 
ever smiled. 

As he passed into one of the towers at the 
far side of the courtyard and the heavy oaken 
door closed behind him, Wilhelm felt it safe 
to reply to Rosechen’s questions. “ Yes,” he 
said, “ Baron Rudolph is very cross and hate- 
ful, and no one dares disobey his least wishes 
for fear of punishment. The castle folks say 
things were not so bad when Lady Hildegarde 
lived, but you know that was before I came 
here. They say she was good and kind, and 
Baron Rudolph cared a great deal for her and 
was not so cross then to everybody. But it 
seems after she died he turned against every 
60 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

one, and has been sour and disagreeable ever 
since ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Rosechen, “ I remember Mother 
said Baron Rudolph changed after his wife 
died. And Father said that when his son, 
young Master Conrad, married some one 
against Baron Rudolph’s will, he drove him 
off without any money, and Father thinks he 
has been more cruel since then.” 

“ Well,” said Wilhelm, “ I never saw Master 
Conrad, but I have heard the people here say 
he was kind and pleasant like Lady Hilde- 
garde ; and I am sure if I were in his place I 
would rather live somewhere else without any 
money than in this gloomy place ! But I 
think it was cruel just the same for his own 
father to drive him off I ” 

But here one of the cooks called Wilhelm 
to scour a silver flagon for the baron’s table, 
61 


ROSECHEN AND 


and Rosechen, bidding him good-bye, took 
up her basket and started toward the gate. 

As she passed the gray tower where hung 
the magpie’s cage, she quickly stepped up the 
stone stair and taking from the pocket of her 
apron a cluster of three cherries held them 
temptingly where the end of the perch was fast- 
ened to the iron bars. “ Come, magpie ! ” she 
said. “ Come, see what I have brought you ! ” 

And this time the poor old magpie did not 
draw back as on that first day when she had 
offered him the lettuce leaf. Instead he came 
as close as he could to the bars of his cage, 
and, looking at Rosechen with a brighter 
gleam in his dim old eyes, even made bold to 
peck at one of the cherries as she held it be- 
tween her fingers. 

“ There ! ” she cried softly, laughing with 
delight. “ You are not so afraid of me any 
62 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


more, are you, magpie ? Why, I wouldn't hurt 
you for the world. I just feel sorry for you, 
and I don't believe you are one bit wicked ! " 

And the magpie fluttered his wings, and, 
cocking his head, listened with interest to his 
little friend, the only one he had in the 
world. For each time Rosechen had come to 
the castle since that first day with Frau Hed- 
wig, she had remembered to bring something, 
if only a scrap of bread, to the poor captive 
bird ; and always as she offered it to him 
through the bars of his cage, she smiled and 
spoke to him. 

To be sure, her mother had warned her 
that it was ill luck to speak to the magpie, 
and no doubt supposed that the little girl 
would do as every one else did and notice him 
no further. “ But," said Rosechen to herself, 
“ Mother did not really forbid me to speak to 
63 


ROSECHEN AND 

him, and I am sure I am not afraid he will 
bring me any bad luck ! ” And smiling at him 
once more, “ Good-bye I ” she said, and tripping 
down the stair, passed out of the courtyard and 
through the gate on her way to the valley. 

The magpie watched her as long as he 
could see her ; and when she was gone sat 
quietly for quite a while, only now and then 
giving a little peck at the cluster of cherries 
shining between the rusty iron bars of his 
cage. Now and then, too, he chattered a little 
to himself in a cracked, broken voice, as very 
old people sometimes do. 

Years before, when he had first been 
caught and placed in the cage, he had day 
after day shrieked and chattered loudly in 
high shrill notes ; and often, attracted by his 
cries, passing magpies had flown near the 
tower and looked curiously at his cage. But 
64 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


that was all long, long ago. He had grown 
hopeless and quiet now, and, except Rose- 
chen, no one noticed him or paid the least 
attention to him. 

The castle page, whose duty it was to give 
him his scanty food and water, merely thrust 
it into his cage without even a kindly look. 

Perhaps he was thinking of all these 
things as he talked brokenly to himself. 
Perhaps he was wondering what had become 
of his mate with her pretty glossy feathers 
and her bright eyes, and of the five speckled 
eggs that had lain in their nest that morning 
he was caught in the cruel snare. 

Poor old magpie ! In front of the tower 
where his cage hung the outer wall of the 
castle rose gray and high, and he could not 
possibly see over it. He could not see down 
the mountain slope where stood the tall pine- 
65 


ROSECHEN AND 

tree he had once chosen for his home. Per- 
haps it was just as well that he could not 
see it, and that he could not hear the tales 
its green-tasseled boughs always crooned and 
whispered as the mountain winds swept 
softly through them. 

Yes, could he have heard them, it would 
have made him only more unhappy ; for 
the pine-tree would have whispered to him, 
“ Yes, I remember when you and your mate 
built your nest high up in my very crown. 
I remember, too, how careful you were to 
choose three of my sturdiest upper branches 
on which to rest it, and how large and fine 
you built it, and how you made its doorway 
at one side and raised a dome-shaped roof 
over it so that eagles or other birds of prey 
could not harm you. Indeed, you magpies 
are very clever in building your homes. 

66 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

“ Nevertheless, though your house was 
very safe, I hear from the winds and the 
other magpies that you met with misfor- 
tune one day in the forest, and that you 
have been for many years a prisoner. Your 
poor mate never knew why you did not 
come back to her, and she mourned long for 
you. And she had hard work, all alone, to 
feed your five little children she hatched 
from the speckled eggs. She has now long 
been dead ; and the five little magpies — it is 
too bad you never saw them ! — grew into 
handsome birds and flew away ever and ever 
so long ago. 

“ And there is nothing left of your beauti- 
ful dome-shaped house but a few weather- 
beaten sticks and some torn shreds of the 
white tufts of fleece for which you had so 
carefully searched the sheep pasture so that 
67 


ROSECHEN 


your house might be warm and snug. In- 
deed, I am quite tired and ashamed of having 
this ragged and empty old nest still clinging 
to my topmost boughs, and I often beg the 
winter winds to tear it away and free me 
from so unsightly a burden I ” 

This is what the pine-tree would have 
whispered to the old magpie if he could have 
heard it ; and then as the blue mists wrapped 
their mantle about it, it would perhaps have 
shaken its lofty crown, half in pity of the 
forlorn prisoner, and half in impatience that 
it must still suffer the annoyance of his 
ragged nest. 

So it was just as well that the gray castle 
walls rose high about the rusty cage, where 
the captive bird sat with his head drooped 
on his breast. 


68 



THE HARVEST FAILS 

HPHE cherry season had long been past, and 
the fair promises of the early summer 
had not been kept. There had been no rain 
in the valley for many weeks, and the little 
fields of rye and wheat and barley belonging 
to the peasant folk were parched and with- 
69 


ROSECHEN AND 


ered. Their cows and sheep had been obliged 
to crop the grass of the meadow-land so 
closely that scarcely more than the roots of 
it remained. 

The brook had shrunken to half its former 
size, and when Rosechen took out her geese, 
if they swam across its shallow water to the 
farther side she no longer tried to prevent 
them. The grass there, though brown, was 
at least abundant and harbored many little 
insects which served them for food ; and if in 
their search for these they frightened away 
a few hares, — why, Rosechen could not see 
what harm that was when her geese were so 
hungry. She did not know that two other 
of the peasants living farther down the valley 
had ventured to lead their cows across to the 
better pasturage, but had been harshly driven 
off by some of Baron Rudolph’s gamekeepers 
70 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

who threatened to take them to the castle for 
punishment if they dared do so again. 

As Peasant Johann and Frau Hedwig 
looked across their little fields where the 
yellowing grain was shrivelled on its stalks, 
they shook their heads sadly, and sighed as 
they thought of the coming winter. For a 
failure of their little crops meant bitter 
suffering. 

Rosechen had helped her father and mother 
carry many a load of water for the kitchen 
garden beside the house ; and though they 
had managed to keep it alive, it was very 
hard work to draw the water from the old- 
fashioned well into the copper milk-cans 
(which now there was never milk enough to 
fill) and then tug them to the parching 
ground. But Rosechen carried all she could, 
while the geese cackled loudly and wanted 
71 


ROSECHEN AND 

her to pour the water over their dusty feathers 
instead. 

And then, by and by, the rain came ; and 
it rained and rained as though it meant to 
rain forever ! The fields, which had been 
parched, were now sodden and wind-beaten. 
The mountain torrent rushed down the slopes 
with a noisy clamor and swelled the brook 
till it overflowed its banks and tore away a 
part of the bridge that Peasant Johann had 
so carefully mended. 

Rosechen’s geese cackled dismally as they 
waddled about on the damp earthen floor of 
the stable ; for she did not dare to let them 
out for fear they would go to the brook and 
be carried away by its rushing waters. She 
fed them as best she could each day, though 
always they clamored for more ; and then, 
going into the living-room and taking her 
72 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


knitting she would tend Kaspar while Frau 
Hedwig worked steadily at her spinning- 
wheel. 

Peasant Johann had shorn their few sheep 
and from their fleece, piled in a basket at 
her side, Rosechen’s mother spun the thread 
which, later on, her skilful fingers must 
weave into cloth for their winter clothes. 
She no longer sang at her work as she used 
to do, but looked sad and troubled as pa- 
tiently she turned her wheel. 

When at last the rain ceased and Peasant 
Johann went through his little fields, where 
everywhere the water stood in glistening pools, 
his heart sank as he saw how poor and scanty 
was the grain he would be able to harvest 
from the bent and broken stalks. It would 
mean scarcely bread enough to keep them 
alive through the winter, and if he must take 
73 


ROSECHEN AND 


the usual tithe of it to Baron Rudolph, he 
could not see how they could possibly live. 
To be sure, there were some apples on the trees 
and still some potatoes and beans and a few 
vegetables in the garden, but part of these also 
must be paid to the baron as rent for the tiny 
farm. 

When, troubled and discouraged, Peasant 
Johann came into the house, Frau Hedwig 
looked up from her work, and “ Johann,” she 
said, “ will there be any grain ? ” 

“ So little, ” answered Peasant Johann sadly, 
“ that if I must take our tithe to the castle, 
I do not see what we will do for bread ! ” 

Frau Hedwig said nothing, but bent over 
her work still closer while Rosechen was so 
troubled that she dropped some stitches in her 
knitting, and little Kaspar, looking from one 
to the other and seeing their sad faces, felt 
74 



THE WICKED MAGPIE 


that something was the matter and began to 
cry loudly. 

“ Never mind, Kaspar ! ” said his father 
gently, as he stooped and lifting the baby 
swung him over his shoulder and carried him 
out-of-doors, where he played with some sticks 
from a pile of fagots while Peasant Johann 
climbed to the roof and mended the thatch in 
which the wind and rain had torn a ragged 
hole. 

As Roschen and her mother still worked 
inside, they were both busy with their own 
thoughts. Presently, “ Mother,” said Rose- 
chen, “ why is it that Baron Rudolph owns 
all the valley and has a great castle and will 
not let our cow and sheep and geese have 
enough pasture?” 

“ There, there, child ! ” said Frau Hedwig. 
11 You must not ask such troublesome ques- 
75 


ROSECHEN AND 


tions ! The lord of this valley has always 
lived in the Castle of Hohenberg and we peas- 
ant folk have to obey him ; that is all I know.” 
And Frau Hedwig sighed as she turned the 
spinning-wheel with tired fingers. 

Meantime the swollen brook was all the 
while growing smaller ; the harsh roar of its 
waters at last sank to a quiet murmur, and 
the summer wore away and the autumn drew 
near. 

A few weeks later, when Peasant Johann 
with his wooden flail had threshed out his 
scanty harvest, the sacks of grain were even 
less than he had feared. And at last when 
the time approached when he must make 
another payment to Baron Rudolph, he looked 
so despairingly at the little supply that would 
be left that Frau Hedwig ventured to suggest 
a plan. 


76 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


“ 1 have been thinking,” she said, “ that 
there is nothing left for us to do but to ask 
Baron Rudolph to let us off from paying the 
rest of our rent this year ; and perhaps next 
year, if the season is good, we can pay him 
double. 

“He must know we have never before failed 
to pay our full tithe and that we are honest 
folk. Rosechen and I have carried our due 
of milk and vegetables and fruit to the castle 
ever since spring, and the maids up there say 
not one of the peasants of the valley, even 
those who have larger farms, has paid the rent 
more faithfully than we. And now that we 
have so little, surely even Baron Rudolph will 
have a little mercy ! ” 

Peasant Johann listened with dismay to 
Frau Hedwig’s speech ; for he was a timid 
soul, and the thought of asking any favor of 
77 


ROSECHEN 


Baron Rudolph filled him with terror. In- 
deed, all the peasants of the valley knew the 
story of Jan and the magpie, and though it 
had all happened long ago, the dungeons 
were still in the castle and the castle’s lord 
still had power to imprison the valley folk if 
they made him angry. 

But though Peasant Johann was frightened, 
he did not like Frau Hedwig to think him a 
coward, and as she insisted, at last he con- 
sented to go in a day or two; though he 
shook his head and declared it would be of 
no use. 

“ Well, you can at least try,” said Frau 
Hedwig, who generally managed the house- 
hold. And Peasant Johann nodded meekly, 
though he had little heart for her plan. 


78 



VII 

PEASANT JOHANN GOBS TO 
SEE BARON RUDOLPH 


'T'HE next morning was sharp and frosty, 
and Frau Hedwig declared that the snow 
would soon be coming and that Peasant Johann 
must make haste to do his errand to the castle 
before the path was buried deep in its wintry 
drifts. So reluctantly he made ready to go. 
79 


ROSECHEN AND 


As he was to speak to Baron Rudolph him- 
self, Frau Hedwig took from the chest his 
best clothes and these she carefully brushed, 
together with his cap with the black cock’s 
feather stuck in one side. His braided jacket 
of green cloth had been handed down from 
his father, but his shirt with its embroidered 
front Frau Hedwig had spun and woven and 
made herself ; and though both were old and 
worn, she kept them so carefully mended that 
Peasant Johann really looked very well as he 
set off across the meadow. 

Over one arm he carried a basket in which 
Frau Hedwig had placed a few eggs from 
Rosechen’s geese, so that he might not go 
quite empty-handed. 

As he trudged slowly away, “ Good luck to 
you ! ” she called after him, and little Kaspar 
in her arms gurgled and waved his little hands. 

80 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

Rosechen, watching her geese by the brook's 
edge, had a mind to ask her father to see how 
the old magpie fared, for she had not been to 
the castle for some time ; but then she thought 
that perhaps he would not like it that she had 
made friends with the unlucky prisoner in the 
cage, so she only said, “ Good-bye, Father ! I 
hope Baron Rudolph will not be cross ! ” 
Peasant Johann, as he muttered good-bye, 
heartily hoped so, too ; for he had no liking 
for his errand as he made his way slowly up 
the steep mountain path. The ground was 
rough and stony, for the rains had washed 
and furrowed the slopes and strewn them 
with boulders. Here and there through the 
forests on either side the storm winds had 
broken great boughs from the trees, whose 
leaves were already turning brown and yel- 
low. Now and then a company of birds 
81 


ROSECHEN AND 


passed overhead, flying toward the south ; for 
the winter came early there among the moun- 
tains. 

At last Peasant Johann had climbed to the 
top of the crag and crossed the drawbridge ; 
and when the porter opened the heavy gate 
and let him in, he entered the courtyard with 
lagging steps. 

The magpie from his tower heard the gate 
open, and as he could see but dimly, he held 
his head to one side and listened for Rose- 
chen's voice. For ever since the little girl 
had made friends with him, every time any 
one came into the courtyard he listened 
eagerly for her. 

But when no Rosechen came running up 
the stone stair to speak to him, presently he 
dropped his head again, with a little shiver, 
and folded his wings closer about him ; for 
82 


. THE WICKED MAGPIE 

the air was sharp and chill that blew around 
the old tower. 

Meantime, Peasant Johann had met the 
castle steward, who had come out to give 
some directions to several pages loitering 
about, and had made bold to ask to see Baron 
Rudolph. 

“ The baron is in the castle hall looking 
over some accounts,” answered the steward, 
glancing rather curiously at Peasant Johann 
whom he did not know, as the steward was a 
new one in the castle. Then noticing the 
basket of eggs, he added, “ But I think it is 
the kitchen where you really should go. The 
baron does not wish to see you peasant folk 
every time you come with your eggs and 
cabbages and what-not,” and the steward 
pointed toward the kitchen tower. 

But Peasant Johann, though timid, was 
83 


ROSECHEN AND 


also a little stubborn, as many timid people 
are ; so he said again, “ I want to see Baron 
Rudolph.” 

“ Oh, very well I ” said the steward curtly, 
shrugging his shoulders, “ as you please. 
But I warn you, you will find him in no 
good humor.” Then turning to one of the 
pages, “ Go take this man to Baron Rudolph,” 
he said. 

Peasant Johann followed the page through 
the great doorway beneath the carved stone 
shield and into the castle hall. He had 
never been in this part of the castle, as 
always before he had gone only to the 
kitchen tower, and he looked around with 
wonder at the richly carved furniture, and 
the armor and wonderful tapestries hanging 
on the lofty stone walls. 

At one end of the hall was a heavy oaken 
84 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


table ; and there, bent over some papers 
spread out in front of him, sat Baron Ru- 
dolph. There was a frown on his face, and 
he looked up crossly as the page, sinking on 
one knee, said, “ My lord, here is a peasant 
who wishes to speak to you.” 

At this the baron, turning sharply about, 
fixed his eyes sternly on Peasant Johann, 
who made a frightened, awkward bow as he 
plucked off his cap. 

Then Baron Rudolph said haughtily, “ I 
dare say you, too, have come trying to beg 
off from paying your rent ! Half of the 
valley folk are doing the same thing, and it 
is no use, I tell you ! no use ! ” and the 
baron’s voice rose harshly as he brought his 
fist down heavily on the table. 

“ You are all just alike!” he went on. 
“ Always complaining! If the sun shines 
85 


ROSECHEN AND 


you declare your crops are dried up, and if it 
rains, that they are all mildewed ! Nothing 
suits you ! And I would like to know, 
sirrah ! how you expect me to live, with all 
you good-for-nothing folk cheating me out 
of my just dues! If that is your errand, 
begone at once ! If you have anything else 
to say, speak, if you can, instead of standing 
there staring at me like a frightened sheep ! 
I have no time to waste on you whining 
peasants ! ” And Baron Rudolph frowned 
harder than ever as poor Peasant Johann, 
who had not dared to open his mouth, hung 
his head and clutching his cap tightly in 
both hands turned to leave the hall. 

As the baron eyed his retreating figure, his 
rage broke out afresh. “ Faugh ! ” he cried. 
“ Look at you ! You are as well-dressed as 
my castle steward ! ” As by this time Peas- 
86 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

ant Johann had reached the door, “ Mind ! ” 
called the baron sharply, “ mind you are to 
bring your farm produce to the castle as 
before, or else its equal in money, for I do 
not believe any of you valley folk are so 
poor as you pretend I I dare say plenty of 
you have a good supply of coins hidden 
away in your woolen stockings or under the 
thatch of your roofs ! ” 

And as the door closed behind his peasant 
visitor, the baron was still muttering to him- 
self. “ Hm ! ” he growled, “coming here in 
their embroidered jackets asking to be let 
off from their rent ! The good-for-nothing 
cattle ! ” For Baron Rudolph could not see 
how patiently and skilfully Frau Hedwig 
had patched and darned the things put on to 
show him respect, nor did he know how care- 
fully they would be put away the moment 
87 


ROSE CHEN AND 


Peasant Johann reached home and exchanged 
them for his coarse working-blouse. 

Meantime, while Baron Rudolph was still 
muttering to himself, Peasant Johann had 
silently made his way to the courtyard. He 
had almost reached the great gate before he 
remembered that the goose eggs were still in 
his basket ; and when he crossed over to the 
door of the kitchen one of the maids called 
out, “ Dear me ! Here is Peasant Johann 
in his Sunday clothes! How now, Johann? 
How comes it you have a holiday when the 
rest of us are working ? ” 

But when she caught sight of his face with 
its sad, frightened look, her laughter stopped, 
and, guessing the truth, “ Never mind,” she 
said kindly in a low voice, as she emptied 
his basket of eggs, “other folks from the 
valley have fared as badly as I see you have 
88 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


done in trying to talk to Baron Rudolph. I 
surely think the good God will some day 
punish him for his hardness of heart.” 

Peasant Johann gave her a grateful look as 
taking his empty basket he again crossed the 
courtyard and passed out of the castle gate. 
As he trudged down the mountain the wind 
blew sharp and chill, sending the brown and 
yellow leaves whirling before it and tossing 
the pine boughs till they sighed mournfully. 

Rosechen, down in the meadow with her 
geese, was watching for her father ; and 
when he came in sight between the wind- 
swept trees she knew from his bent head and 
his hopeless air that his errand had been use- 
less. As he crossed the little bridge, she 
quietly slipped her hand in his with a sympa- 
thetic squeeze. Then as her father passed on 
toward the house, she drew her cape closer 
89 


ROSE CHEN 


about her shoulders and tried to busy her 
cold little fingers with her knitting. And as 
she knitted she walked briskly up and down 
the brown meadow to keep from shivering. 



90 



VIII 

WINTER IN THE VALLEY 

“ T3 OSECHEN,” said her mother a few 
days later, “ there is something I 
want you to do before the snow comes. Take 
your basket and go to the forest and see if 
you cannot find some acorns.” 

91 


ROSECHEN AND 


44 Why, Mother?” asked Rosechen wonder- 
ingly, as she took down the basket from its 
peg near the door. 

41 Because, child,” answered Frau Hedwig, 
44 you know Baron Rudolph would not listen 
to your father, and wants his share of what 
we have just as in good years. And after we 
have paid him our grain we will have to eke 
out our own flour with acorns. So hurry 
and see what you can find. I doubt not other 
peasant folk are in as sore straits and will 
be doing the same thing.” 

Rosechen said no more, but taking her 
basket set out for the forest beyond the 
meadows and fields. Two great tears stood 
in her eyes as she trod the frosty path ; for 
never since she could remember had they 
been so poor as this. 

In the forest almost all the trees had shed 
92 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


their leaves save the tall pines, wrapped in 
their dark green mantles, and the oaks, 
whose russet red foliage would not forsake 
them through the long winter. Only their 
fruit of acorns had fallen to the ground, and 
for these Rosechen searched long and pa- 
tiently. They were so much the color of the 
brown leaves covering the sodden earth that 
it was hard to see them ; and when, after 
hunting for quite a while, at last her basket 
was filled, most of the acorns she had been 
able to find were poor and shrunken from 
the long summer drought or spoiled by lying 
on the wet leaves. 

When the little girl brought them back to 
the cottage, Frau Hedwig shook her head as 
she looked them over. “ Are they the best 
you could find, child ? ” she asked. 

“ Yes, Mother,” answered Rosechen. “ I 
93 


ROSECHEN AND 

tried my best,” and the tears again lay near 
her eyes. 

“ There, there, Rosechen,” said her mother, 
“ I know you brought the best you could. 
The year has been hard on the forest trees as 
well as on our own fields. And perhaps, too, 
others have been ahead of you. Neverthe- 
less, even these are better than nothing, and 
we must lay up what store we may against 
the winter.” 

So in the next few days Frau Hedwig sent 
Rosechen several times more to the forest on 
the same errand. 

Then, by and by, the snow began to fall, 
and before long the winter began in earnest. 
And long and bitter it was to prove for all 
the poor peasant folk of the valley. 

Peasant Johann and Frau Hedwig tried in 
every way they could to keep Rosechen and 
94 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

baby Kaspar from suffering, and to raise 
what little they were able with which to pay 
Baron Rudolph. Both of them toiled early 
and late at the work which was always to be 
done summer and winter. Frau Hedwig 
spent her spare moments weaving woolen 
cloth from the thread she had spun out of 
the fleeces of the sheep. But when it was 
finished, she cut off only enough for a warm 
little dress for Kaspar and one for Roseehen 
who had outgrown her last year’s frock ; then 
the few yards which were left she carefully 
folded up and laid aside. 

“ Why, Mother,” said Roseehen, “ aren’t 
you going to make the new jacket for Father 
and the cape you need so much ? ” 

“ No, child,” answered Frau Hedwig. “ I 
can mend our old ones so they will last a bit 
longer ; and perhaps some day Father will 
95 


ROSECHEN AND 


take the cloth and some of the toys he is 
carving to the village and try to sell them.” 

The village was at the far end of the val- 
ley, beyond the forest. In the summer Rose- 
chen’s father and mother tried to go there to 
the parish church as often as they could on 
Sundays, though it was a walk of many miles. 
But at other times the peasant folk round 
about seldom went to the little place except 
for supplies of the few things which they 
could not make for themselves or raise on 
their tiny farms. 

Rosechen rocked the cradle where little 
Kaspar sat playing ; and as he now and then 
flung his wooden toys on the floor, “ Kaspar,” 
she would say, “you must be more careful 
with your playthings ! Father has no time 
now to be making new ones for you ! ” But 
Kaspar would only laugh and crow. 

96 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


Yet Peasant Johann, though he used every 
spare moment in carving a little supply of 
toys to try to sell, had many other things to 
do besides. He looked over and mended all 
his farm tools so as to have them in order 
when spring should come. And then he 
mended and made over the shoes of heavy 
leather which they must all have for climb- 
ing the steep mountain paths with their sharp 
rocks and stones. Bare feet or wooden shoes 
did very well for the valley meadows and 
fields, but were of little use on the mountains. 
So Peasant Johann patched and cobbled and 
did his best to renew the coarse footgear for 
the family ; and out of some bits of softer old 
leather which he had left, he even made a 
little pair of shoes for Kaspar who would soon 
be toddling about. 

Rosechen, too, had many tasks to keep her 

97 


ROSECHEN AND 


busy. She did not go to school because in 
those days there was no place where peasant 
children might be taught; nevertheless, her 
little hands were seldom idle and her mind 
was all the while storing up the homely wis- 
dom handed down among the peasant folk 
from generation to generation. And though 
she had no picture-books, her father and 
mother told her many a quaint old legend or 
fairy story of the region, such as they them- 
selves had heard from their fathers and 
mothers. 

Rosechen would croon these over as she 
tended Kaspar, who would open wide his 
blue eyes with a puzzled look at his little 
nurse, for Rosechen took much of the care of 
the baby brother. 

She helped her mother, too, about her 
household work, and every day she fed her 
98 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


geese with such scanty food as she could find 
for them and carried them fresh water from 
the old well, where she would tug at the frosty 
sweep till her fingers were numb with cold. 

The geese must be kept penned up now 
while the valley was covered with its white 
drifts of snow ; and very impatient they were, 
cackling and screaming every time Rosechen 
opened the door of the stable. “ Oh/’ she 
would say with a sigh, as she looked at them, 
“ I shall be glad when spring is here and you 
can go out-of-doors and find things to eat for 
yourselves ! ” For the little goose-girl had 
had hard work to try to satisfy them. And 
the flock was smaller now than it had been, 
for more than one had gone to make a dinner 
for Baron Rudolph. 

Frau Hedwig was a careful and frugal 
housewife, and tried her best to make their 
99 


ROSECHEN AND 


scanty supply of food go as far as possible. 
Often she and Peasant Johann went without 
so that there might be bread for Rosechen and 
Kaspar ; though many times the tears came 
to Frau Hedwig’s patient eyes when little 
Kaspar would hold up his pewter mug and 
cry for milk when there was none to give him. 

So the winter wore slowly away. And 
one day when the bitterest cold had passed, 
though still the valley was wrapped in its 
fleece of snow, Peasant Johann decided to 
make the trip to the village, of which they 
had spoken earlier in the year. 

He had carved quite a number of toys, 
wooden sheep such as he had made for 
Kaspar, little dogs and hares, and even a few 
tiny cottages like those of the peasant folk. 
These he arranged in a bundle together with 
the cloth which Frau Hedwig had woven, 
100 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


and when Rosechen had brought him his 
jacket and mittens, he set out ; though he 
did not hope to obtain much for his wares. 
For the villagers made most things for them- 
selves, as did the peasant folk on the farms, 
and but few traders came there from outside. 
Moreover, in many places in Tyrol there were 
skilful carvers and makers of toys. How- 
ever, even a little would help, so Peasant 
Johann trudged off to make the best bargain 
he could. 

The winds sweeping through the valley 
had blown most of the snow from the frozen 
brook, so he took his way along its icy path ; 
for the road to the village was poor at best, 
and now half blocked by the winter drifts. 

Rosechen, who had run along with him as 
far as the brook's edge, waved good-bye, and 
then as she turned to go back she looked up 
101 


ROSEGHEN AND 


the mountain to the crags of Hohenberg. 
The old castle loomed high above, bleaker 
and grayer than ever; its towers and parapets 
all capped by snow and the peaks beyond 
rising white and cold in the distance. 

“ I wonder, I wonder,” she thought to her- 
self, “ if the poor old magpie is still alive ! ” 
For as Rosechen had tended her own starling 
through the winter, she had thought many 
times of the forlorn prisoner in the iron cage, 
and wished that she might see and speak to 
him and offer him some bit of food as she 
had so often done through the summer. But 
as the steep mountain path had usually been 
deep with snow-drifts, Peasant Johann had 
made such journeys to the castle as were 
needful ; and as he knew nothing of Rose- 
chen’s interest in the magpie, of course he 
had brought back no word of it. 

102 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


And the poor captive was forlorn enough. 
When the bitter cold had come his cage had 
been carried within the castle so that he 
might not freeze to death ; though this was 
not because of pity for him, but rather be- 
cause it was a tradition with the lords of 
Hohenberg that the cage must never be 
empty of its prisoner ; and if the magpie 
were to freeze, it would be hard in winter 
to capture another to take his place. But 
though the cage hung within the walls, it 
was in the dismal little entrance room of the 
tower that held the kitchen ; and Rosechen's 
tender heart would more than ever have 
pitied the poor prisoner if she could have 
seen him huddling his head beneath his 
wings and shivering in the chill air, with no 
one to speak a kind word to him. 

But his one little friend, down there in the 
103 


ROSECHEN 


valley, could see nothing but the distant gray 
walls rising somber against the white moun- 
tainside. So presently, after a brisk run 
around the snowy meadow, Rosechen, with 
rosy cheeks, went back to the house and 
helped her mother at her work ; while little 
Kaspar sat on the floor playing with a tiny 
gourd and looking at it with wonder as he 
rattled its dry seeds. 



104 



IX 


HENRY, THE PAGE, 
MAKES TROUBLE 

TT was nightfall before Peasant Johann re- 
turned from the village, for it had been 
a long and bleak walk against the icy 
winds. 

He had had fairly good luck in selling his 
wares, and, as he had not expected much, 
105 


ROSECHEN AND 


was satisfied with the few pieces of silver 
money which he brought back ; for he had 
not spent a penny for the supplies they so 
much needed and which he usually carried 
home from the village. 

He and Frau Hedwig carefully counted 
over the silver, and then they carefully put 
it away. For the peasant folk of those days 
handled money so seldom that even a trifle 
seemed very precious to them. 

“ To-morrow,” said Frau Hedwig, “ you 
can go up to the castle and take the silver 
pieces and half of the last cheese in the press, 
and that is all we can do until spring. God 
grant it may come early and be a good sea- 
son I ” she added fervently. 

The next morning was sunny and the icy 
wind had ceased to blow. Peasant Johann 
took the silver pieces from their hiding-place 
106 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


and fastened them in a leather pouch which 
he dropped in one of the pockets of his 
jacket ; then, taking the cheese under his 
arm, he started off. 

Rosechen, as she often did, put her cape 
around her and walked a little way with him. 
As she swung along beside him, her father 
looked down at her fondly, and “ Child,” he 
said, “ suppose you go with me to the castle. 
The path is not so bad now, and it is a fine 
day.” 

“ Oh, yes, Father ! ” cried Rosechen quickly, 
“ I would like to go ! ” 

“ Then run back and get your hood and 
tell your mother,” said Peasant Johann. 
And as he looked after her little figure fly- 
ing over the snow, he was glad he would 
have her company ; for he always dreaded a 
visit to the gloomy crag, and especially after 
107 


ROSEGHEN AND 

that day when Baron Rudolph refused to 
listen to him. 

Rosechen on her part was delighted to go, 
for she had been much shut in the house 
through the winter; then, too, she had tucked 
in her apron pocket a bit of bread which she 
had saved from her breakfast. To be sure 
it was hard and bitter from the acorn meal 
which Frau Hedwig had been obliged of late 
to mix with their little stock of flour; but 
Rosechen had grown used to it, for the bread 
of peasant folk is never fine and white like 
that of people in castles ; and she thought the 
poor old magpie might be glad to have it, as 
he was fed so little. 

The little girl had wanted to ask her father 
to take this bit of bread to him, but had hesi- 
tated to do so ; so now she was glad that 
she was to go along, and hoped she might 
108 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

see the poor old bird and comfort him a 
little. 

Soon she came running back from the 
house, having put on her hood and mittens ; 
and the two crossed the frozen brook and 
began to climb the white path up the moun- 
tain. The bare branches of the trees showed 
like great gray cobwebs against the sparkling 
white slopes that rose behind them, while 
here and there tall pines and firs proudly 
lifted their dark green boughs. 

Though there was no sound of birds, and 
most of the little forest creatures were still 
in their winter homes, yet here and there 
sharp prints in the snow showed where a fox 
had passed, or smaller ones told of hares or 
weasels. The little torrent no longer sang 
and tinkled beside the path, but slid silently 
under its wintry coat of ice ; while from the 
109 


ROSECHEN AND 


rocks that edged its summer cascades glisten- 
ing icicles now caught the morning light till 
they gleamed like rainbow fringes. 

“ Oh, Father ! ” cried Rosechen, as her eyes 
sparkled with pleasure. “ Isn’t the mountain 
beautiful? ” 

At this Peasant Johann, who had never 
thought much about it, looked around, and 
“ Yes, child,” he agreed, “ it is ! But,” he 
added, as he noticed near by the footprints of 
a large hare, “ I wish Baron Rudolph would 
let us trap some of those little beasts for 
our empty soup-pots ! ” and he sighed as he 
trudged on, feeling how hopeless it was to 
better their lot unless their overlord would 
show himself kinder. 

But in a little while more they had reached 
the gateway and entered the castle courtyard. 
Peasant Johann stopped a few minutes to 
110 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


speak to the old gate-keeper; and Rosechen, 
running over to where the magpie’s cage had 
hung from the gray tower near by, saw that 
the dragon hook was empty. 

Coming back to her father she took his 
hand and together they crossed the courtyard 
to the kitchen entrance. As they stepped 
within this, Rosechen, whose quick eyes had 
been watching for her feathered friend, spied 
his cage fastened against the wall. “ Look, 
Father,” she exclaimed, “ there is the mag- 
pie ! ” 

“What?” said Peasant Johann in bewil- 
derment. “ You do not mean the * wicked 
magpie’?” and involuntarily he crossed him- 
self ; for like most peasants he was supersti- 
tious and felt that the magpie must be some- 
thing evil as he was always called wicked. 

" But I don’t call him wicked, Father 1 ” 
111 


ROSECHEN AND 


said Rosechen earnestly ; and loosing his 
hand she stepped over to the cage. Just here 
one of the maids, seeing Peasant Johann from 
the doorway, called to him, “ Good-day, Jo- 
hann ! Come in and tell us the news of the 
valley ! ” 

And he went into the kitchen where the 
serving folk asked him many questions of 
their friends in the cottages at the foot of the 
mountain ; for the crag of Hohenberg was a 
lonely place at best, and especially in winter 
when it seemed cut off from the world. 

Meantime, Rosechen was smiling at the old 
magpie as in a low voice she coaxed him to 
come as close as he could to the bars of his 
cage. It had been months since he had seen 
the little girl, yet, though timid at first, he 
seemed not to have forgotten his only friend. 
He opened his eyes and holding his head to 
112 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


one side as he peered out at her, tried feebly 
to flutter his wings as she spoke to him. 

“ See ! " she said. “ I have brought you a 
bit of bread ! Poor magpie ! I cannot see 
into your cage very well/' here Rosechen 
stood on tiptoe trying to do so, “ but I am 
afraid you are half starved ! We have not 
much, either," she added, “but I have brought 
you some of my breakfast and I hope you can 
eat it ! " Then with another smile and a nod, 
she followed her father into the kitchen. 

“ Why, Rosechen ! " exclaimed her friend 
Wilhelm, the serving-boy, in surprise. “ I 
did not know you were along ! ” 

“ She stopped to look at the wicked mag- 
pie," explained her father. Then, after they 
had all talked a while longer, he asked for 
the castle steward and delivered to him the 
cheese and the pieces of silver, thankful that 
113 


ROSECHEN AND 

this time he did not have to see Baron Ru- 
dolph, of whom he stood in great dread. 

Then saying good-bye to their friends, who 
called after them many messages to Frau 
Hedwig, Rosechen and her father left the 
kitchen and passed through the little room to 
the outer entrance. 

Peasant Johann’s mind was so busy trying 
to remember all the things he was to tell Frau 
Hedwig that he did not notice when Rose- 
chen, with another smile, waved her hand in 
good-bye to the old magpie still peering at her 
as he pecked now and then at the bread she 
had brought him. He did not notice either, 
nor did Rosechen, a page who had been stand- 
ing near the kitchen door as they came in, 
and who now looked at them maliciously as 
they crossed the courtyard. 

“ So,” he was saying to himself, “ she is the 
114 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


one who used to feed that old magpie last sum- 
mer ! And now I have caught her at it I 
Baron Rudolph will be angry enough when 
he hears of it, and I mean that he shall ! ” 
and Henry, the page, nodded his head hate- 
fully. 

Now Henry it was who had to give the 
magpie such little care as it received, and he 
disliked this greatly. And he himself was 
disliked by most of the castle folk ; for he 
was haughty and disagreeable and was known 
among them both as a tale-bearer and as un- 
truthful. 

Several times through the summer Henry 
had noticed little things in the magpie’s cage ; 
a withered lettuce leaf or the stones of the 
cherries Rosechen had thrust between the iron 
bars told that some one else had been feeding 
him. Henry had wondered a little, as he 
115 


ROSECHEN AND 

knew very well none of the castle people would 
dare to give anything to the wicked magpie, 
even if they pitied it. Once when he had 
asked about it in the kitchen, no one knew ; 
and though Wilhelm, the boy scullion, guessed 
that it might be kind-hearted little Rosechen, 
he loyally kept his thoughts to himself, for he 
knew Baron Rudolph would be angry with 
any one who interfered with the traditional 
custom of the castle that the magpie must be 
given only enough to keep it alive and must 
be shunned by every one. 

But Henry, now that he had found out who 
had had the boldness to be kind to the poor 
prisoner, determined to tell Baron Rudolph 
the first chance he found. He meant to do 
this partly because he was of a malicious dis- 
position and seemed to enjoy getting other 
people into trouble, and partly, also, because 
116 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

he had noticed that Rosechen was a friend of 
Wilhelm's and he and Wilhelm had had sev- 
eral bitter quarrels. 

And Henry’s chance was not long in com- 
ing. The next day the baron sent for him to 
do some service in the great hall, and before 
he left, bending on one knee, “ My lord I ” he 
said. When Baron Rudolph gave him atten- 
tion, he began his speech, as do most people 
who have something unpleasant to tell, by 
saying, “ My lord, I feel that I ought to tell 
you something. All summer some one out- 
side the castle has been bringing dainties to 
feed the wicked magpie. You know I have 
charge of him. I did not tell you before be- 
cause, though I tried my best to find out who 
did it, I could not be sure until yesterday 
when I saw a little peasant girl named Rose- 
chen giving him a large piece of fine white 
117 


ROSECHEN AND 

bread ! ” For so Henry’s imagination made 
the most of Rosechen’s humble little offerings. 

At this Baron Rudolph, who had been lis- 
tening in amazement, burst out, “ What? 
Feeding the wicked magpie with dainties and 
fine white bread ? How dares she ! ” he thun- 
dered, his ill temper rising with every word. 
“ The hussy I Who is she, this Rosechen ? ” 

“ My lord,” answered Henry, “ she is the 
daughter of Peasant Johann and Frau Hedwig 
who live down in the valley near the bridge. 
She has often come to the castle on errands.” 

“ Peasant Johann and Frau Hedwig I ” cried 
the baron, catching at the names. “ Ha, yes, 
I remember ! That sheep-eyed Johann came 
here last autumn to beg off from paying his 
rent, like all the rest of those good-for-nothing 
varlets of the valley, claiming they were half 
starved ! The impudent rascals ! Dainties 
118 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

and fine white bread, indeed I And enough 
for their children to feed to robber birds they 
have no business to meddle with ! ” 

And so the baron stormed, ending by de- 
claring that the next time his rent came due 
Peasant Johann should pay roundly for Rose- 
chen’s impertinence in feeding the wicked 
magpie, and that Rosechen herself should not 
be allowed within the castle grounds. 

And Henry left the hall, well satisfied with 
the trouble he had stirred up. 



119 



X 

BARON RUDOLPH GOES R1DJNG 


T^vOWN in the white valley Peasant Jo- 
hann and Frau Hedwig, all uncon- 
scious of Baron Rudolph’s special anger with 
them, were doing their best to bring their 
little household safely through the winter 
which was slowly but surely wearing away. 

120 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


Before long the snow began to soften and 
melt, trickling down the sunny mountain 
slopes with a low music very sweet in the 
ears of all the poor peasant folk who had 
struggled through the bitter months gone 
by. Soon the green grass began to cover the 
meadows and every day Rosechen could 
gather a little cluster of blue violets and 
delicate harebells, while by the edge of the 
brook yellow buttercups splashed the ground 
with gold. 

Sweet-voiced cuckoos and linnets and 
blackbirds sang through the valley, and 
everybody tried to forget the hardships and 
suffering of the winter and to take fresh 
heart and courage from the bright spring air 
about them. Though, indeed, it was not 
easy altogether to forget their hardships, as 
the cruel dearth of winter still troubled them 
121 


ROSECHEN AND 


and would until they could gather food from 
their little fields and gardens. 

Nevertheless the peasant folk were a brave 
and hardy people and used to privations ; 
and while many had begun to murmur at 
the exactions of Baron Rudolph, none dared 
do so openly, but all strove to bear them as 
patiently as they might, and toiled hard to 
make the most of their little farms. 

And none worked more industriously than 
Peasant Johann and Frau Hedwig and Rose- 
chen ; while as for baby Kaspar, he was the 
busiest of all, toddling to and fro under 
everybody’s feet, carrying things here and 
there where they did not belong, and alto- 
gether seeming to feel that his work was 
quite the most important of any. 

Peasant Johann had planted his fields with 
anxious care and, with Frau Hedwig’s help, 
122 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

had set oat the garden which was already 
growing, watched every day by their long- 
ing eyes ; for the little supply of food, which 
by Frau Hedwig’s frugal care had lasted 
them through the winter, was now almost 
gone. The sheep and cow and Rosechen’s 
geese, however, were faring better for the 
time, for the meadow grass was in its first 
plenty. 

The wind blew softly through the valley 
rippling the green of the meadows, and then 
entering the forest beyond, it rustled the 
fragrant boughs of pines and hemlocks and 
stirred the young leaves and rocked the 
branches where already there were many 
nests filled with speckled eggs or with the 
wide-open yellow bills of young fledglings. 
For the birds built their nests earlier here 
in the more sheltered parts of the forest 
123 


ROSECHEN AND 


where it spread across the valley. But even 
where it clambered up the steep mountain 
slopes the buds were now breaking and here 
and there a tuft of blue forget-me-nots 
twinkled beside the rushing torrent. 

Yes, even the crags of Hohenberg looked 
less rugged glimpsed through the lacy green 
of young leaves. Within the castle enclosure 
the grass was fresh and bright ; and for the 
while, under the sweet spring air, the place 
seemed a little less gloomy. 

On one of these breezy mornings Henry, 
the page, had taken the magpie’s cage out 
and hung it once more from the dragon hook 
in the old gray wall. As he felt the fresh 
air the poor prisoner raised his head from be- 
neath his wings and opened his beak as if to 
drink it in. For wretched though his lot 
was, it was yet a little better to be out-of- 
124 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

doors, even unsheltered from storm and 
wind, than to stay in the dismal tower room 
where he had spent the winter. 

Henry had just placed the cage and, with a 
disdainful look, turned to go when the stew- 
ard called him to come and attend Baron 
Rudolph. 

For even the baron had felt something of 
the stir of spring, and had decided to go out 
for a ride on his horse. 

This had been led into the courtyard sad- 
dled and bridled, and Henry helped his mas- 
ter to mount ; the groom, who often followed 
him on horseback, had been dismissed by the 
baron, who happened to be in one of the 
moods when he wished to ride by himself. 

But as he took the bridle in his hand and 
Sigrid, the horse, tossing his head spiritedly, 
stepped prancing toward the castle gate, the 
125 


ROSECHEN AND 

old gate-keeper watching him shook his 
head. 

“To be sure,” he said to the steward, 
“ Baron Rudolph has always been a fine 
horseman, but he is not so young as he once 
was ! Nor is he overstrong either,” added the 
porter with another shake of his head, “ and 
yonder horse is full of springtime mettle. 
Young Master Conrad would be fitter to 
handle him.” And the old man sighed as he 
thought of the kind-eyed youth who had al- 
ways had a pleasant word for him, and who 
might now be suffering poverty and distress 
because of his father’s anger. 

Meantime, Baron Rudolph rode down the 
steep bridle-path to the grassy valley below. 
Here Sigrid, who with quivering nostrils had 
been snuffing the fresh spring air, flung up 
his heels and broke into so lively a gallop 
126 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

that it was all the baron could do to control 
him to a trot when they entered the narrow 
bridle-path leading through the forest at the 
far end of the valley. 

Indeed, before long Sigrid was obliged to 
slacken his pace to a walk as he followed im- 
patiently the baron’s guiding along the path ; 
for as it was but little travelled at best, it was 
now almost impassable in places because of 
the broken boughs blown to the ground by 
the winds of winter and which had not yet 
been cleared away. 

In this way they had gone some distance 
into the forest when suddenly from under a 
dead branch lying across the bridle-path out 
scurried a little brown hare. 

Now, of course, big strong Sigrid should 
have known perfectly well that the frightened 
little creature could not possibly harm him. 
127 


ROSECHEN AND 


But Sigrid had not been shut in his stable all 
winter for nothing ; and now, full of pent-up 
energy, he was ready at the least excuse to 
fling up his heels and behave as if something 
really terrifying had befallen him. So when 
the little hare suddenly went scampering be- 
tween his feet, Sigrid reared on his haunches 
and gave such a jump that Baron Rudolph, 
who had slackened his rein after entering the 
forest, was thrown violently to the ground. 

It had all happened so quickly that Sigrid 
himself scarcely realized what he had done ; 
and, after a little snort of surprise at finding 
himself riderless, he wandered off quietly 
enough and presently coming to an opening 
in the trees, where the grass grew fresh and 
green, began grazing as though nothing un- 
usual had taken place. 

Meantime, Baron Rudolph lay very still, 
128 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

his eyes closed and his face very white. 
From a wound in his forehead blood was 
slowly trickling ; but of this he knew noth- 
ing ; for the fall had at first stunned him, 
and then, on partly recovering himself, a 
sharp pain in his shoulder had caused him to 
swoon. So there he lay, quite helpless, and 
with no one in sight to aid him. 



129 



XI 

HOW THE EIGHT WITH THE HAWK 
LED ROSECHEN TO THE BARON 


TI>UT if there were no human beings about, 
there were plenty of little forest crea- 
tures; though these were all so intent upon 
their own affairs that what had befallen 
Baron Rudolph was small matter to them. 
And of all these little forest creatures none 
130 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


were more taken up with their own anxieties 
at that moment than a family of magpies liv- 
ing in a large dome-shaped nest which was 
perched in the topmost boughs of a tall hem- 
lock-tree not far distant from where the 
baron had fallen. 

In this magpie home were six nestlings 
which were not quite able to fly away as yet, 
but which had grown so large that there was 
now scarcely room for them beneath the 
curving roof their parents had so carefully 
built. These nestlings, crowding each other, 
as do all young birds almost ready to fly, had 
at last pushed one of their number to the 
edge of the nest. There he poised uncer- 
tainly for a moment, and then, with a startled 
fluttering of his wings, down he tumbled. 

But though his wings were large enough to 
let him down safely from the tall tree-top, 
131 


ROSECHEN AND 


they were not yet strong enough to raise him 
up again without some help or at least en- 
couragement from his mother magpie. So 
there he lay on the ground squawking with 
surprise at finding himself suddenly on the 
strange brown earth which before he had 
only peeped at from the door of the high 
nest. 

Now, when the young magpie tumbled 
down, his mother, who had left the nest for 
only a few moments, happened to be in 
another tree-top not far away where she was 
searching for some food for her family. And 
it happened also that a large hawk came 
sailing along at the same time. Both of 
these heard the distressed cries of the young 
nestling, and both had very sharp eyes also. 

The hawk, which was farthest away, at 
once began wheeling down trying to see just 
132 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


where the unlucky little magpie had fallen, 
intending then with a sudden swoop to 
snatch him up as a tender morsel for his 
breakfast. But at the same moment the 
quick ears of the mother magpie heard the 
cries of the young one her bright eyes spied 
the hawk, and instantly she began to shriek 
at the top of her voice, calling for help in the 
language which all magpies understand. 

And of the many in the forest those 
nearest quickly answered her; for magpies 
are courageous birds and loyal to each other 
when in trouble. First came the father mag- 
pie, who had been farther away searching for 
worms and so had not at first known what 
had happened ; and after him flew a number 
of others who had heard the cries for help, 
and in another moment, amid a great shriek- 
ing and chattering of angry birds, the hawk 
133 


ROSECHEN AND 


found himself so fiercely attacked that, al- 
though much larger and stronger than any 
one of them, he was obliged to let go the 
young magpie which he had already seized 
and was trying to carry away. Indeed, he 
was glad to spread his great wings and take 
flight from his tormentors that chased him 
some distance till he soared off* high up in 
the blue sky. 

Meantime, the father and mother magpies, 
still chattering, had succeeded in coaxing the 
young nestling up to a low overhanging 
bough ; and there they perched for a while, 
panting and breathless and quite exhausted 
from their struggle, their ragged and blood- 
spattered feathers showing how bravely they 
had fought. 

And clinging there to the bough as it 
gently swayed in the spring breeze, they were 
134 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


quite too worn out to notice that some one 
was looking at them with much interest. 
They had been so excited fighting off the 
hawk that they did not know that their loud 
shrieks and cries had been heard by a little 
girl named Rosechen who happened to be in 
the forest that morning. 

Now, the reason Rosechen was there was 
because Frau Hedwig had found that day 
that she was out of fagots for the fire and so 
had sent the little girl with a basket to bring 
some from the forest. 

Rosechen had been busy for some time and, 
as she often did when sent on such an errand, 
she not only filled her basket but gathered 
besides quite a heap which she piled under 
the trees for her father to fetch home later ; 
for it took a long while to hunt the dry 
branches which had fallen to the ground, and 
135 


ROSECHEN AND 

she could thus save Peasant Johann much 
time to work elsewhere. 

Rosechen had worked so steadily that, 
growing tired at last, she sat down to rest 
under a great oak-tree at the edge of a green 
glade. But no sooner had she seated herself 
than her attention had been attracted by the 
commotion made by the magpies. Though 
some distance away she could hear them 
quite plainly ; and as something unusual 
seemed to be happening among them, Rose- 
chen’s curiosity was aroused ; for she was 
always interested in birds and their ways. 

So she jumped to her feet, and hurrying as 
fast as she could in the direction of the noise, 
reached the spot just as the hawk was being 
successfully driven off. She saw how hard 
the struggle had been, and when it was 
over would have clapped her hands for the 
136 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


bravery of the father and mother magpies in 
saving their little one, if she had not been 
afraid of frightening them. So, after watch- 
ing them a moment longer, she turned softly 
away and started to leave the forest. 

But she had gone only a few steps when 
suddenly she started back with a cry ! For 
there right in front of her lay Baron Ru- 
dolph, who had come out of his swoon 
though still his eyes were closed. Now, hear- 
ing Rosechen’s cry, he opened them and 
uttered a faint moan. 

Rosechen, who at once recognized the 
baron, was terrified at finding him thus, and 
for a moment stood irresolute, scarcely know- 
ing what to do. But then, after another gasp 
of bewilderment, her wits came back to her 
and she realized that she must do something 
to help as soon as possible. So gathering up 
137 


ROSECHEN AND 


her courage, she stepped timidly to the 
baron’s side and said in a low voice, “ Are 
you much hurt, sir ? ” 

But Baron Rudolph was too weak and 
dazed to answer. 

Here Rosechen, seeing the blood on his 
white face, hastily undid her little apron and 
hurrying to the edge of a small stream which 
she knew was not far away, she wet it in the 
cool water and coming back pressed it to the 
baron’s forehead. In a few minutes he 
revived enough to ask faintly, “ Where is my 
horse?” 

“I do not know, sir,” answered Rosechen, 
and “ Did you fall from him ? ” she asked. 

“ I suppose so,” said Baron Rudolph, be- 
ginning to realize what had happened. Then 
as he tried to rise, he fell back with a groan 
of pain. 


138 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


Rosechen, who had been thinking quickly, 
here sprang to her feet, and “ Oh, sir,” she 
said, “ I must find some one to help you ! I 
know where a charcoal-burner lives, near the 
edge of the forest, and I will run to him.” 

And off she sped to where she knew was a 
little weather-beaten hut among the great 
trees. As she came near it, “ Uncle Carl ! 
Uncle Carl ! ” she called in an anxious voice ; 
for the old charcoal-burner was a friend of her 
father and she had always called him “ Uncle 
Carl.” 

Soon a kindly-eyed old man with his face 
smudged with soot came from his work near 
the hut, and “ Hey, child ! ” he said in sur- 
prise, “ what is the matter?” 

“ Oh,” cried Rosechen breathlessly, “ Baron 
Rudolph is hurt ! I think he fell from his 
horse! Come quickly!” And seizing his 
139 


ROSECHEN AND 


hand she dragged along Uncle Carl trying 
his best to make his stiff old knees keep up 
with her flying pace. 

When they came to where Baron Rudolph 
was lying, the charcoal-burner, who was really 
very skilful in dealing with hurts, made it his 
first care to staunch the blood still oozing 
from the baron’s forehead ; then gently he 
tried to lift him. But from the groans of the 
wounded man, he decided that one of his shoul- 
der bones must be broken ; and presently, 
too, the baron discovered that he could not 
use his right foot, as the ankle seemed to have 
been wrenched in the fall. 

When Uncle Carl found that this was the 
case, he told Rosechen to hurry back to her 
home and get her father’s help to carry the 
baron thither. “ For,” said Uncle Carl, “ he 
could not ride his horse, and it would never 
140 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


do to try to carry him, hurt as he is, up the 
steep mountain road. I could not make him 
comfortable in my poor hut, and your house 
is the nearest other place. So tell your mother 
to make ready.” 

Rosechen darted off, and by the time Peas- 
ant Johann reached the place where the baron 
was lying the charcoal-burner had brought 
the sheepskin covering from his bed in the 
hut and spread it out by his side ; placing the 
wounded man gently on this, between them 
they carried him out of the forest and across the 
fields and meadows to the home of Rosechen. 

The little girl, after sending her father to 
Uncle Carl, had stayed to help her mother 
make ready for their unexpected guest. Both 
were greatly excited at the thought of hav- 
ing Baron Rudolph under their roof. “ Oh, 
Mother,” said Rosechen in an awed voice, 
141 


ROSECHEN 


“ do you suppose he will be angry to be 
brought here, and scold us ? ” 

“ I do not know, child,” answered Frau 
Hedwig, as she spread fresh sheets of her own 
weaving on the great bed in the corner of the 
room. “ But there seems nowhere else to 
take him, and we will do the best we can 
for him, for he is hurt and helpless. And we 
must show kindness to those our roof shel- 
ters,” she added with the true spirit of hospi- 
tality ; — though in her heart she was not a 
little frightened at the prospect of nursing the 
lord of Hohenberg in their humble home. 



142 



XII 

BARON RUDOLPH BEGINS TO THINK 

TD ARON RUDOLPH had been for several 
weeks in the home of Peasant Johann 
and Frau Hedwig. The broken bone of his 
shoulder and the hurt to his ankle were both 
mending, and the fever into which the shock 
of the accident had at first thrown him had 
143 


ROSECHEN AND 


passed away. To be sure, as the old gate- 
keeper had said that morning when he set 
out on Sigrid’s back, the baron was no longer 
young ; yet in spite of this, the skill of the 
village doctor, and most of all the wise and 
careful nursing of Frau Hedwig, were slowly 
but surely restoring him to health. 

And as he lay there waiting to grow strong 
enough to ride up the mountain to his castle 
(but on a safer horse than Sigrid !), he had 
a great deal of time to think about things. 
Though at first he was too ill to notice what 
went on about him, as the pain left him more 
and more he began to observe the daily life 
of the little household. 

The great bed with the red and blue cross- 
stitched curtains had been given up to the 
baron, and the others had gone to sleep in 
the low-roofed loft above the living-room. 
144 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


Peasant Johann had carried little Kaspar's 
cradle thither, but the rest had to be content 
with beds made of armfuls of straw spread 
upon the floor. 

Every morning before daybreak Frau Hed- 
wig and Peasant Johann would softly slip 
down the narrow stair to the living-room and 
make their breakfast of hard bread, and then 
go about their work as noiselessly as possible 
so as not to disturb Baron Rudolph ; though 
often he was awake and quietly watching 
them. A little later Rosechen would bring 
Kaspar down, and if the day was fine would 
take him out-of-doors and tend him as she 
watched her geese, so his noisy play might 
not annoy the baron ; for everybody was very 
careful to make everything as comfortable as 
possible for their uninvited guest. 

Baron Rudolph's food was sent down daily 
145 


ROSECHEN AND 

from the castle kitchen ; and when he began 
to notice things he could not help but see 
how poor and scanty was the fare of the 
others. One morning, having a fancy to 
taste it, he asked Frau Hedwig for some of 
their breakfast. 

“ It is only bread, sir,” she answered, sur- 
prised at his request and that he was awake 
so early. '‘And,” she added, "you would 
not like it, sir.” 

But as he insisted, she brought him a piece. 
“ Bah ! ” he said, making a wry face as he 
tasted it. “ Is that what you call bread ? ” 

Frau Hedwig flushed, for she prided her- 
self on her skill as a housewife. “ My lord,” 
she replied sadly, “ I cannot make bread like 
that of your castle when I have only flour 
made from blighted grain and acorns.” 

Baron Rudolph’s own face flushed at this 
146 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


and he said no more ; for he began to re- 
member how he had forced the peasant folk 
of the valley to pay him with their wheat, as 
always, in spite of the hard season ; and he 
now knew that they must eat bitter bread 
so that his might be fine and white. But 
though he said no more to Frau Hedwig, he 
took care to order food enough brought down 
from the castle to supply not only his own 
wants but those of the family also. 

He had never before realized how hard 
were the lives of these humble people. And 
as day after day he saw how bravely and 
patiently they worked and tried to make the 
best of the little they had, he began more 
and more to feel very uncomfortable as he 
thought of his own hardness to them. He 
had called them lazy and good-for-nothing 
as he looked down on them from his castle 
147 


ROSECHEN AND 


oil the crag ; but now that he had been for 
several weeks living in a peasant home, he 
saw for himself how unjust had been his 
thoughts of them. 

At first, after the baron had been brought 
to the cottage, he had said but little, merely 
making his wants known in his usual cross 
and commanding way. But as more and 
more he now came to know the daily life 
of those about him, his temper began to 
soften wonderfully. 

And though he had not around him the 
handsome and costly things to which he was 
accustomed at the castle, yet the pretty 
touches of carving and needlework with 
which Peasant Johann and Frau Hedwig 
had beautified their humble belongings, all 
these were not lost upon Baron Rudolph 
now that he really looked at them and 
148 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


understood with wliat toil-wearied fingers they 
had been done for love of the little home. 

But most of all he found it unexpectedly 
pleasant to be so close to the kindly simple- 
hearted life of this peasant home. Up at the 
castle every one waited upon him and obeyed 
his orders in a silent, frightened way ; and no 
one, not even the baron himself, had known 
how terribly lonely he was. But here in the 
cottage there was no room to put him off by 
himself, and to his own surprise he found 
that he really enjoyed being a part of the 
humble life there. 

They were all kind to him not only be- 
cause he was their master but because they all 
had warm, sympathetic hearts ; and now that 
he was hurt and helpless, they were genuinely 
sorry for him in spite of his old treatment of 
them. Moreover, their spirit of true hospital- 
149 


ROSECHEN AND 


ity made them try, as Frau Hedwig had said 
they would, to do their best for any one, no mat- 
ter whom, seeking shelter beneath their roof. 

And Baron Rudolph could not help but 
feel all this, and grow more and more 
ashamed of himself. Gradually he lost his 
overbearing manner, and every day his voice 
became kinder and more pleasant. 

Baby Kaspar, who could only prattle a 
little and thought everybody his friend, 
would often come and bring his playthings 
to the side of the great high-posted bed and 
offer them to the baron. The first time Frau 
Hedwig saw him, “Kaspar!” she cried in 
dismay, as she hastened to snatch him away. 
“ You must not do that ! ” 

But to her amazement Baron Rudolph had 
said in a kind voice, “ Do not take him away. 
I like to have him friendly.” 

150 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


Indeed, the more and more Baron Rudolph 
watched Kaspar toddling about shaking his 
gourd rattle, more and more he thought of 
his own son Conrad, and how he had just 
such blue eyes as Kaspar’s, and how he used 
to toddle about with his coral rattle with its 
fine silver bells, and how he had loved him 
and how proud he had been of him. And 
then he would wonder where Conrad was, 
and if life went hard with him. And this 
was more than Baron Rudolph had done for 
a long time; for he had shut up his heart so 
close against Conrad that he would not allow 
even a thought of him to enter. But now he 
would watch little Kaspar with a dreamy, 
longing look in his eyes ; and once Frau 
Hedwig overheard him softly call him “ Con- 
rad/' by mistake, because he was thinking so 
hard of his own boy. 


151 


ROSECHEN AND 

And if Kaspar and Baron Rudolph had be- 
come good friends, Rosechen, too, was on the 
best of terms with him. Though shy and timid 
during the first weeks of the baron’s illness, 
as he grew better and more kindly disposed 
toward them all, the little girl had more and 
more lost her awe of him. Indeed, she found 
herself so much more at ease with him than 
she had ever dreamed she could be, that often 
in speaking to him she would forget to say “ My 
lord,” as her mother had told her she should ; 
and Baron Rudolph, knowing she meant no 
disrespect, would smile and really enjoyed it ; 
for most people like a change, especially if 
from customs that are stiff and formal. 

Often Rosechen would take her knitting 
and drawing her wooden stool to his bedside, 
she would tell him the little adventures of the 
day, or perhaps some old legend or fairy story 
152 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


such as all the peasant children knew ; and 
Baron Rudolph would listen quietly, often 
wondering that he found it all so agreeable. 

If the people at the castle could have peeped 
in at such times they would have stared with 
surprise ; yet not so much as they might have 
done some weeks before. For those of them 
who had come down on errands had now for 
quite a while been bringing back wonderful 
tales of how the baron had changed. Though 
the rest of the castle folk could scarcely be- 
lieve it true, yet they hoped with all their 
hearts that it might be ; for life up there had 
been dreary enough for many years. 



153 



Xffl 

ROSECHEN ASKS SOME QUESTIONS 


r T'HE only one who was not pleased with 
these tales about Baron Rudolph was 
Henry, the page ; he had taken a malicious 
pleasure in making the baron angry with 
Rosechen, and he did not like it that they 
had become friends. He did not quite believe 
154 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


it, however ; so one day when the steward 
happened to ask him to carry some message to 
the baron, he did not object as he probably 
would have done, because he rather wanted to 
see for himself how things were. 

When Henry reached the cottage he strode 
in, paying no attention to Frau Hedwig’s 
greeting. And then, after delivering his mes- 
sage to the baron, he stared around the room 
so contemptuously and was so insolent to every 
one that Baron Rudolph's anger was aroused 
and he said sternly, “ Henry ! You are an 
impudent young rascal, and when I go back 
to Hohenberg I shall see that you mend your 
manners ! ” 

Henry turned scarlet with rage and morti- 
fication, but he dared not answer back. So 
presently turning on his heel he haughtily 
left the house ; and Frau Hedwig, though too 
155 


R OSEGHEN AND 


polite to say anything, could not help but 
smile to herself as she closed the door. 

Meantime Henry, furiously repeating to 
himself, “ Pooh I I'm not afraid of him ! He 
has lost his wits in that wretched hovel ! ” 
stalked angrily across the meadow till presently 
spying Rosechen tending her geese at the far 
end of it, his face brightened up ; for here was 
somebody he knew he could be disagreeable 
to, and he seemed to delight in saying hateful 
things to people. 

He had been disappointed in not seeing 
Rosechen in the cottage, so now crossing to 
where she was, he pointed his finger at her 
and “ Shame ! Shame ! ” he cried. “ You fed 
and petted the wicked magpie and brought ill 
luck to Baron Rudolph ! He found out about 
what you were doing, though, a long time 
ago, and he ordered the gate-keeper not to let 
156 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


you step your foot inside the castle courtyard I 
I carried the orders myself ! ” he ended 
triumphantly. 

Poor Rosechen, who knew nothing of how 
Henry had told the baron weeks before about 
her feeding the magpie, stopped still, listening 
in amazed surprise. Tears sprang to her eyes 
as she stood silent for some moments not 
knowing what to answer to Henry’s speech. 
At last she sobbed out, “ I don’t believe it ! ” 

“ You don’t ? ” said Henry, tossing his 
head. “ Have you tried lately to get into 
the gate ? ” 

“ No-o ! ” sobbed Rosechen. 

“ Well, you’ll see ! Bad-luck bringer ! ” he 
added tauntingly. 

“But,” protested Rosechen, trying to dry 
her eyes, “ I don’t see how my giving that 
poor starved magpie little things to eat, or 
157 


ROSECHEN AND 


speaking to him, could bring any bad luck to 
Baron Rudolph I ” 

“ Yes,” cried Henry, delighted to see he 
was tormenting her, “ but it did ! That’s 
what made him fall off of his horse and 
nearly get killed ! It was all your fault, 
every bit of it 1 ” he added exultingly. 

But Rosechen was not entirely convinced ; 
for, unlike most peasant folk, she was not 
naturally very superstitious. “ Mother said 
it was ill luck to speak to the magpie,” she 
faltered at last, “ but I am sure she only 
meant it was ill luck to whoever did it, and 
I was not afraid. And he looked so miser- 
able, I had to pet him ! ” 

“ You had to pet him, did you?” sneered 
Henry. “ Well, you just wait and see ! You 
brought the accident on the baron, and 
though maybe your bad luck hasn’t begun 
158 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


yet, — you just wait ! ” And wagging his 
head with a knowing look which seemed to 
mean all sorts of dreadful things were going 
to happen to her, Henry moved off across the 
meadow, quite cheered up because he had 
made some one unhappy. 

For poor Rosechen was very miserable and 
unhappy. But by and by she dried her eyes 
and tried to forget what Henry had said. 
Yet though, when she returned to the cot- 
tage, she said nothing about it, she could not 
keep her thoughts entirely from it. 

That same afternoon she and Kaspar were 
left to look after Baron Rudolph while her 
father and mother were working in the fields. 

Kaspar was playing with his wooden toys, 
the baron was dozing in the high-posted bed, 
and near by Rosechen sat on her little stool 
knitting. 


159 


ROSECHEN AND 

As she worked she was thinking of the 
baron forbidding her to come to the castle. 
“ 1 wonder if he really did ? ” she said to her- 
self. “ But then,” she added as she looked at 
his sleeping face with its now kindly expres- 
sion, “ I don’t believe he would now ! And I 
don’t believe, either, that the poor old magpie 
had anything to do with his getting hurt I 

“ And,” she went on, “ I am sure if it 
hadn’t been for those other magpies in the 
forest I would never have found the baron ; 
— and perhaps — perhaps they were the chil- 
dren or grandchildren of the old magpie ! I 
wonder if they were?” And Rosechen was 
so absorbed in her thoughts that presently 
Baron Rudolph, who had wakened and was 
watching her, said, “ What are you thinking 
about, child? ” 

Rosechen answered him almost as if she 
160 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


were still talking to herself, “ I was thinking, 
sir, wouldn’t it be queer if the magpies that 
made me find you that day in the forest were 
the children or grandchildren of your mag- 
pie ! Do you suppose they were ? ” 

“ Of my magpie? ” repeated Baron Rudolph 
in surprise. “ Do you mean the wicked mag- 
pie? ” Then all at once he remembered what 
Henry had told him about the daughter of 
Peasant Johann feeding and petting the poor 
old bird, and how angry it had made him. 
In the weeks of his illness he had forgotten 
about it ; but yes, Henry had said her name 
was Rosechen and this must be the very 
child. Though Baron Rudolph did not like 
it that any one had dared to break the old 
custom of the castle and pet the prisoner that 
for so many generations had been doomed to 
neglect and scanty fare, yet now that he owed 
161 


ROSECHEN AND 


so much to the little girl who had brought 
help to him in the forest, and since, more- 
over, he had grown fond of her, he could not 
be very cross with her. Nevertheless, with- 
out knowing it, he stiffened up a bit as he re- 
peated with a touch of his old sternness, “ Do 
you mean the wicked magpie ? ” 

Rosechen looked up surprised, for Baron 
Rudolph seldom spoke crossly now. “ Yes, 
sir,” she said hesitatingly, after a pause, — 
“ only I don’t see why everybody calls him 
‘wicked.’ He did not steal Lady Irma’s 
necklace,” she finished timidly. 

But Baron Rudolph’s thoughts had gone 
back to the first part of Rosechen’s speech, 
that about the magpies of the forest. Now 
the baron knew that Rosechen had found 
him there in the forest where she had gone to 
gather fagots ; but no one had happened to 
162 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


tell him about the magpies whose cries in 
fighting off the hawk had first drawn her to 
the spot. So, his curiosity aroused, he said, 
44 I do not understand what you mean by the 
magpies that made you find me that day I 
was hurt ? ” 

Rosechen told him about how she had 
heard the noise they made trying to save the 
young nestling from the hawk, and how she 
had come to the place and so found him. 
44 Oh, sir,” she said as she finished , 44 they must 
think as much of their children as people do, 
they fought that big hawk so bravely ! ” 

Baron Rudolph winced as Rosechen thus 
unconsciously reminded him that even the 
birds he had despised had risked their lives 
and shown more love for their nestling than 
he himself had shown for his own son whom 
he had wilfully driven from home. 

163 


ROSECHEN AND 

But Rosechen went on, “And I was just 
wondering if those magpies were any relation 
to your magpie at the castle. It would 
be so queer if they were ! And,” she con- 
tinued eagerly, “ I thought perhaps you 
would let your magpie go free on account of 
it, because Uncle Carl says if the magpies 
hadn’t brought me when they did you would 
have bled to death ! ” 

At this Baron Rudolph was quite silent. 
But Rosechen did not notice, for as she 
knitted on her thoughts were absorbed with 
the story of the stolen necklace. She had 
always been interested in it, and had asked 
her mother many questions which the latter 
could not answer. So now she said to Baron 
Rudolph, “ Has there really always been a 
magpie in that iron cage ever since they 
found the necklace ? ” 


164 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

“ Yes,” answered the baron, without saying 
more. 

“ And how long has the one up there now 
been in it, sir ? ” 

“ I do not remember,” replied the baron 
shortly. “ Some years, I suppose.” 

“He must have been,” said Rosechen with 
conviction, “ he looks so old and lonesome.” 
Here she had to stop and count her stitches ; 
then presently she went on, “ I wonder if he 
doesn't remember his nest and his children, 
and wonder what became of them.” Then, 
after thinking a while longer, “ Did Jan have 
any children, sir ? ” she asked. 

“ Jan ?” said the baron, with a puzzled look. 

“Why, yes, sir,” replied Rosechen, surprised 
that he should ask ; “ the young man Baron 
Friedrich thought had stolen the necklace, 
you know. I suppose thinking about the 
165 


ROSECHEN 


magpie’s children made me wonder if Jan 
had any and what became of them when he 
died in the dungeon.” 

To this Baron Rudolph answered nothing 
at all. And as at that moment Kaspar fell 
off of a bench to which he had climbed, and 
began to cry, Rosechen hastily put down her 
knitting and ran to pick him up and comfort 
him. 



166 



XIV 

BARON RUDOLPH’S RESOLVE 


HPHE reason Baron Rudolph had not an- 
swered Rosechen’s last questions about 
Jan and if he had left any children was be- 
cause he did not know what to say. 

The truth was the story had been handed 
down more faithfully among the peasant folk 
167 


ROSECHEN AND 


to whom Jan belonged than by the lords of 
the castle. For the two hundred years since 
the time the necklace was stolen, each of the 
barons of Hohenberg had simply accepted the 
fact that a magpie must be kept in the iron 
cage ; and, like many old customs, they jeal- 
ously kept it up without really paying much 
attention to the beginning of it. Baron Ru- 
dolph did not even remember the name of 
the youth who had suffered death until Rose- 
chen’s questions reminded him of it. 

And these questions about Jan and what 
had become of his family, her pity for him 
and for the poor old magpie up at the castle 
and her plea that he set it free because other 
magpies had unwittingly saved his life, all 
these started him off on a new train of 
thought. 

Indeed, the baron was very busy these days 
168 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


thinking about many things, and in a differ- 
ent way from the way he had ever before 
thought of them. It was really wonderful 
how it all had improved him and how those 
weeks spent in the peasant home had made 
him more kind-hearted and more just than 
he had been in all his life. 

It seemed as if there had awakened in him 
the best traits of his race. For the lords of 
Hohenberg, though often harsh and hot-tem- 
pered, had been quite as often fair and just, 
as indeed was Baron Rudolph himself in his 
younger days. And now that Rosechen had 
reminded him of the story of the stolen neck- 
lace and the magpies, he began really to con- 
sider the matter for the first time since he 
could remember. 

Though he smiled at her suggestion that 
the magpies of the forest might be the chil- 
169 


ROSECHEN AND 


dren or grandchildren of the wicked magpie, 
nevertheless, what she had told him had 
given him a different opinion of the birds he 
had always been taught to scorn. And as he 
lay there in his bed, the more he thought of 
the prisoner in the iron cage the more he 
began to see how, as Rosechen had said, 
the poor old magpie ought not to be called 
“ wicked,” but rather the custom itself. That 
it was both foolish and wicked to keep on 
generation after generation imprisoning help- 
less birds, all because, two hundred years be- 
fore, one of their kind had stolen a pearl 
necklace ! 

Then presently he began to think of Jan 
and Rosechen’s questions about his family 
and what had become of them. Now Baron 
Rudolph could reason things out as well as 
anybody when he set his mind to it ; so now 
170 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

that he had set his mind to it, if one could 
have read his thoughts they would have been 
something like this: “If my great-great-great- 
great-grandfather, Baron Friedrich, wished to 
make amends for having unjustly imprisoned 
and caused the death of a young peasant, 
why did he not try, so far as possible, to 
make it up by showing special favor to the 
young man's family, to his father or mother, 
or children, if he had any ? Would not this 
have been a better way to atone for his 
cruelty and injustice than to be unjust and 
cruel to a lot of magpies who had nothing to 
do with the matter? Yes, it is quite sure 
Baron Friedrich made a mistake in not doing 
something for the young man’s family, — 
which I never heard that he did. But of 
course it is too late for that now.” 

Then all at once, deep down in his heart, 

171 


ROSECHEN AND 

something seemed to say to him, “ But is it 
too late ? ” 

“ Why, yes ! ” answered Baron Rudolph’s 
other self. “ Jan’s family have been dead and 
gone this long and long ago I ” 

“ To be sure ! ” said the first self. “ But 
are there not plenty of peasant folk still in 
the valley, and do not you, the lord of 
Hohenberg, to-day represent your great-great- 
ever-so-great-grandfather Baron Friedrich ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Baron Rudolph to him- 
self. 

“ Then,” went on that part of him that was 
thinking things out, “ why cannot you make 
amends for Baron Friedrich’s unkindness and 
injustice to one peasant in his time by being 
kind and just to all the peasants of your day ? 
That would be very much better than to go 
on shutting up magpies, a custom which you 
172 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


have discovered never punishes the real thief 
and does no one any good.” 

“ Yes,” agreed Baron Rudolph. 

“And,” went on his thinking self, “just 
because you have inherited the caged magpie 
is really no reason why you should hand it 
down to your son Conrad.” 

And, strangely enough, Baron Rudolph did 
not even start when he said Conrad's name 
over to himself. For, without really realiz- 
ing it, since he had been so long a part of the 
humble but happy family life around him, 
he had made up his mind to find Conrad 
and his young wife and bring them back to 
the castle. Perhaps, too, he was ashamed to 
think that even the magpies of the forest had 
shown more love for their children than he. 

But the voice in his heart went on, “ Yes, 
it will be much better to do away with that 
173 


ROSECHEN AND 


foolish old magpie cage, and, instead, make 
things easier for all your peasants for the 
sake of Jan. Besides, you are especially the 
one to do this, for you know very well by this 
time that you yourself, though you have never 
caused the death of one of them, have yet for 
many years been harsh and unjust to them.” 

Though this last was hard for Baron Ru- 
dolph to admit even to himself, yet he was 
obliged to, for he knew it was true. “ Yes,” 
he agreed, “ I have been harsh and unkind 
to my people ; but that was when I did 
not know them. Now I have learned how 
worthy they are, and how far more honest 
and hard-working and good-hearted than I 
ever supposed, and from now on I will try to 
be a better master to them ! ” 

And this resolve was the most fortunate 
thing in the world for the poor peasants of the 
174 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


valley. For when once he made up his mind to 
do a thing, Baron Rudolph would always take 
a great deal of trouble to carry out his word. 

Of course all these things ought to have 
occurred to some one of the lords of Hohen- 
berg long before ; but it is surprising how 
hard it is sometimes for good ideas to get into 
people’s minds. Now, however, having once 
entered the head of Baron Rudolph, it was 
amazing how happy it made him ! 

He was so pleased with himself that he 
could not understand why he had not 
thought it all out before ; for he found it 
so much more agreeable to have kind in- 
tentions toward everybody than to be cross 
to them. At once he began to plan all sorts 
of ways in which he might help the peasant 
folk instead of hindering and oppressing them. 

The old frown smoothed out from his fore* 
175 


ROSEGHEN AND 


head ; and when, every day or two, some of 
the serving-folk brought down things from 
the castle, they took back more wonderful 
tales than ever of how the baron had changed. 

“ Only think I ” said one of the seneschals 
to the kitchen folk after he had been down 
to the valley, “ Baron Rudolph smiled and 
spoke kindly to me, and asked pleasantly 
how you were all getting along ! He is even 
kinder than when Lady Hildegarde lived, 
before he turned against every one ! ” 

“ La me ! ” said one of the maids. “ If we 
were to believe all the stories you folks bring 
back about the baron we would have to 
think a miracle has happened ! We can’t be- 
lieve his crossness and hardness for all these 
years can change so suddenly ! ” 

“ Yes,” said another, “ you are surely mak- 
ing sport of us 1 ” 


176 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


But the seneschal declared earnestly, “ No, 
I am telling you the truth ! Just wait till he 
comes home and you will see for yourselves ! 
And it hasn’t been so suddenly, either ; you 
know he has been down there in the valley 
for weeks and weeks, and I guess he has had 
time to think over his sins 1 ” 

The maids still looked incredulous ; but by 
and by the time came when, as the seneschal 
had said, they were to see for themselves. 

For Baron Rudolph had at last become 
well enough to go back to the castle, and the 
morning was set for his return. 

He had thanked Peasant Johann and Frau 
Hedwig most warmly for all their kindness 
to him, and had seen to it that they were 
liberally paid for the trouble he had been to 
them. He had insisted on them taking this 
money, though they did not want to ; for 
177 


ROSECHEN AND 

after the first few weeks the baron had been 
so kind and pleasant to them that they had 
grown very fond of him and were honestly 
glad to do what they could for him, simply 
out of the goodness of their own hearts ; and 
they really hated to have him go. 

“ I would never have believed/* confided 
Frau Hedwig to Peasant Johann when they 
had climbed to their loft the night before 
Baron Rudolph was to leave, “ no, I would 
never have believed that day the baron was 
brought here that I would be sorry to see 
him go, but lam!** 

11 Yes/* answered Peasant Johann slowly, 
“ he is a fine gentleman and knows how to 
be pleasant to us poor folks as well as harsh 
to us. I hope he won't go back to his old 
ways when he is home again ! ” 

“ Never fear ! ” said Frau Hedwig with em- 
178 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


phasis. “ He is a changed man, and it is my 
belief that he has a warm heart after all and 
will be a good master to us.” And Frau 
Hedwig, who was keener witted than Peasant 
Johann, closed her lips with a wise look in 
her eyes. “ Kaspar loves him, too,” she 
added, “ and you cannot deceive babies ; 
they never like cross, hard-hearted people ! ” 



179 



THE CAGE DOOR IS OPENED 
AT LAST 

r PHE next morning Baron Rudolph’s 
groom rode down the mountain lead- 
ing with him the gentlest horse from the 
castle stables for his master to ride. 

When all was ready and the good-byes 
were said, Kaspar, who seemed to know that 


180 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

his friend the baron was going away to stay, 
cried so bitterly, and, toddling to him, clung 
so tightly to the top of one of his tall laced 
riding-boots, that with a smile Baron Ru- 
dolph stooped and lifted the little boy in his 
arms. Kissing his rosy cheek, “ Kaspar,” he 
said, “ you must ask Frau Hedwig to bring 
you to the castle to see me, for I shall be very 
lonesome when I go away from here.” 

And the baron sighed ; for the truth was, 
he hated to leave the kindly life in which 
chance had thrown him for so long, and to 
go back to the great lonely rooms of the 
castle. “ But then,” he thought to himself 
with an inward thrill of joy, “ they will not 
be lonely any more when Conrad comes 
back ! ” Then turning to Frau Hedwig, 
who was secretly wiping her eyes with the 
corner of her apron, he handed Kaspar to 
181 


ROSECHEN AND 


her, saying, “ You must surely bring him 
up to see me ! ” 

The baron next took Rosechen's hand as 
she stood near her mother. “ Rosechen,” he 
said, “ I want you to go with me and spend 
the day at the castle. The groom can take 
you in front of him on his saddle, and I will 
send you home the same way.” 

Rosechen gasped with surprise. “ Why, 
sir baron ! ” she said in confusion, twisting 
in her hand her little homespun apron as she 
looked at him with brightening eyes. Just 
here a loud cackling came from the near-by 
stable where the geese were impatient to be 
taken out. 

“ Never mind the geese,” said Baron Ru- 
dolph. “ They can wait till you come back.” 

But Rosechen was not thinking of her 
geese but of what Henry the page had said 
182 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


about the baron having forbidden her to come 
to Hohenberg. Now she smiled happily and 
cried, “ Oh, sir, I knew it wasn’t true that 
you ordered the gate-keeper not to let me 
come to the castle any more ! ” 

“Who told you that?” asked the baron 
sharply. 

“ Henry, the page, told me, sir,” answered 
Rosechen, “ but,” she added simply, “ I did 
not believe it.” 

Here Baron Rudolph flushed with con- 
fusion. “ Never mind if I did ! ” he said 
hastily. “ That was long ago. And as for 
Henry, he is an impudent young rascal whom 
I shall teach better manners ! ” 

Here Frau Hedwig interposed ; she did not 
know what it all meant as she knew nothing 
of the little girl’s friendship for the old mag- 
pie, but she was much flattered by the baron’s 
183 


ROSECHEN AND 

invitation to Rosechen to go with him to the 
castle ; so she said to her, “ Child, I am sure 
it is very kind of Baron Rudolph to ask you 
to go to the castle for to-day, so do as he says 
and go just as you are.” For while Frau 
Hedwig would like to have seen Rosechen 
wearing her little holiday dress and embroid- 
ered kerchief and apron, as she was going to 
Hohenberg as a guest, yet she knew it would 
never do to keep the lord of the castle waiting. 

After the baron had been helped to mount 
his own horse, there was much laughter as the 
groom lifted Rosechen and set her in front of 
him on the saddle. Rosechen, who had never 
before been on a horse, was delighted and 
waved a merry good-bye to Kaspar who held 
up his fat little arms and cried lustily to go 
along. 

The geese, too, cackled louder than ever 
184 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


with surprise and indignation as they peered 
from their pen through the open door of the 
stable, wondering why their little mistress 
did not come to take them out. 

“ You will have to wait ! ” called back 
Rosechen gleefully. “ I cannot ride on a 
horse every day I ” 

Up, up they rode, the path growing steeper 
and steeper, while the birds sang and the 
torrent plashed and gurgled till Rosechen 
thought the mountain had never looked so 
lovely. Nor had she dreamed how fine it 
was to be carried on the back of a stout horse 
instead of trudging up on her own little feet. 

When they reached the crag of Hohenberg, 
the gate-keeper was so astonished to see Rose- 
chen riding on the groom’s horse that he 
barely remembered in time to make his bow 
and give his greetings to Baron Rudolph. 
185 


ROSE CHEN AND 


While as for Henry the page, when he har- 
ried out to help his master dismount, he was 
so overcome at the sight of Rosechen, who 
could not help but smile mischievously at 
him, that he stood stock still, staring at her 
till the baron was obliged to say sharply, 
“ Henry, you seem to have forgotten the duty 
of a page ! ” 

At this Henry’s face fell, and with another 
look of angry surprise toward Rosechen he 
hastened to attend his master. 

When the latter had dismounted and the 
groom had lifted Rosechen to the ground, 
Baron Rudolph, taking her hand, said in a 
low voice, " Rosechen, the special reason I 
wanted you to come with me to-day is be- 
cause I have decided there are to be no more 
prisoner magpies ” (out of respect to Rosechen 
he did not use the time-honored word 
186 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


“ wicked”) “at Castle Hohenberg, and I want 
you to open the cage door.” 

Rosechen again gasped with surprise. She 
did not know what to say, so she only tight- 
ened her clasp of the baron’s hand as she 
looked up at him with eyes full of delight. 

Together they crossed the courtyard to the 
old gray tower, and Rosechen, in her eager- 
ness slipping her hand from Baron Rudolph’s, 
ran up the steps from which she could always 
see the magpie. 

But her smiles quickly faded and a great 
sob rose in her throat as she looked within 
the cage ; for the poor old captive lay dead 
upon its floor. 

Rosechen stood quite still for a moment, 
and then, her blue eyes filled with tears, she 
slowly turned and came silently down the 
stair ; while Baron Rudolph, who, being 
187 


ROSE CHEN AND 


taller than she, had seen what had happened, 
quietly lifted the cage from the dragon hook 
and set it on the paving stones at the foot of 
the tower. 

Here Rosechen knelt down and opening 
the door to the freedom which had come 
too late, put in her little hand and softly 
smoothed the lusterless feathers of the forlorn 
and forsaken bird. As she stroked his quiet 
wings that would never again flutter to greet 
his one little friend, she murmured gently, 
“ Poor magpie, poor magpie ! ” Then look- 
ing up at Baron Rudolph who was standing 
watching her, she said, “ Henry told me, sir, 
that my petting him and giving him little 
things to eat brought bad luck and made you 
fall off of your horse ! But I don’t believe 
it ! ” she added passionately. 

Baron Rudolph was silent ; and presently, 

188 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

“ Do you believe it, sir?” she faltered, look- 
ing earnestly at him. 

At this Baron Rudolph, who was absorbed 
in his own thoughts, roused himself. “Henry 
is certainly a good-for-nothing fellow,” he 
said, “ who must be made to mind his own 
affairs I And,” he added, “ your petting the 
magpie could not possibly have brought bad 
luck, because my fall from Sigrid that day 
in the forest was the best thing that ever 
happened to me.” 

Of course Rosechen did not know all the 
new ideas and thoughts about things that 
had come to Baron Rudolph as he lay in the 
high-posted bed all those weeks at her home ; 
so she now stared at him in bewilderment. 

“ Never mind, child,” said he, smiling at 
her blank look. “ You will understand me 
some time. I only meant that if I had not 
189 


ROSECHEN AND 


been hurt that day so that I had to stay so 
long in your home you would never have 
told me that the magpie was not wicked, and 
I would have gone on thinking he was and 
probably shutting up more when he died in- 
stead of doing the much better way I have 
thought of to make amends for Jan's death." 

Rosechen still looked bewildered ; but 
Baron Rudolph was gazing at the dead mag- 
pie with a look of real pity, so she knew that 
he did not believe what Henry had told her ; 
and that relieved her mind, for it had 
worried her a little, and especially since she 
had grown so fond of the baron she did not 
want to think she had had anything to do 
with injuring him. 

Baron Rudolph presently called Wilhelm, 
Rosechen's boy friend, from the kitchen tower 
and bade him dig a little grave in the green 
190 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 

grass of the castle enclosure. And when 
Wilhelm had carefully smoothed the turf 
above the magpie, Rosechen plucked a sprig 
of mignonette from a flower bed near by and 
laid it at his head. 

A year or two later, one springtime a gust 
of wind carried off the last fragment of the 
deserted nest which had so long clung to the 
top of the tall pine tree on the lower slope of 
the mountain. It was the nest the magpie 
had built in his youth ; and as at last the 
pine-tree felt itself freed from the burden 
which had annoyed it for so long, it rustled 
all its green branches and murmured softly 
to itself, “ Well, at last I am rid of that old 
nest which has been so torn and weather- 
beaten for so many years that it quite spoiled 
my beauty. 


191 


ROSEGHEN AND 


“ It was a very handsome nest, though, when 
it was new, and I cannot but feel sorry for the 
unfortunate magpie who built it. I heard 
from some of the birds resting on my boughs 
that he had died in the iron cage in which he 
was kept so long at the Castle of Hohenberg. 
I am glad to know, however, that it is done 
away with now. Only the other day I over- 
heard some magpies chattering about how re- 
lieved they all are that they need no longer 
fear being trapped and imprisoned in it ; for 
they say the cage is gone from the dragon 
hook and that no one has seen it since the 
day my old magpie died ! 

“ But the strangest thing of all is that they 
declare Baron Rudolph is a changed man, 
not cross and harsh to the peasant people, but 
so good and kind that now they call him 
* Baron Rudolph the Good ! * And they say 
192 


THE WICKED MAGPIE 


that he and his son Conrad and his pretty 
young wife, who live with the baron, are 
especially kind to a little goose-girl named 
Rosechen and to her family. 

“ Heigho ! I wonder what made him 
change so, and why he decided to have no 
more magpies in the cage? It was truly a 
foolish old custom, and I am sorry my mag- 
pie was obliged to pass so forlorn a life. But 
perhaps after all it was not in vain, seeing 
that the cage no longer hangs from the castle 
tower and that all the peasant folk of the 
valley are so happy and contented.” 



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library of congress 


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